Dedicated To The One I Love
by isabella2004
Summary: As a vicious killer stalks the women of London, Gene Hunt finds himself forced to face the past. The memory of the person he let down, the person he couldn't save. Can Alex help him find closure?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: This is my first Life on Mars/Ashes to Ashes story. It's going to cover both shows and may well be Gene/Alex later! Please read and honestly review!! I don't own any of the characters except obviously those that never appeared in either show!!**

**London – April 1981**

_"Gene? Gene, are you there? Where are you? I need you, where are you?"_

He was dreaming again. The same dream he had every so often. One that would creep into his subconscious a few times a year and had the power to leave him utterly drained and incapable of focusing on anything else. He wasn't sure what had prompted it this night. Had it been the fact that he had caught sight of her picture that afternoon as he had opened his desk drawer? Was it the telephone message left on his desk from Ted Ryan? Or was it the fact that another young woman had been seemingly abducted off of the street for no apparent reason?

_"Gene…Gene, please help me…"_

He could picture her. Alone in the dark. Crying out for help. Crying out for him. In his most vivid dreams he could see her, bound at the wrists and ankles, locked in some dark place with no hope. He could smell her fear. Could taste the salt of the tears coursing down her cheeks. Could see her chest rising and falling rapidly as her panic grew.

He didn't know how it had ended for her. He liked to pretend that it had been quick. That the hands around her neck had swiftly cut off the oxygen and that she had slipped easily into unconsciousness and then death. He didn't want to imagine that it had been prolonged. Didn't want to picture her fighting wildly for her life, her hands clawing at her attacker, her screams echoing where no-one could hear them as he degraded her for one last time...

_"Gene!"_

The final scream woke him and Gene Hunt found himself sitting up in bed, panting heavily, drenched in sweat. The bed sheets were bunched around him, a clear indication that he had been tossing and turning. Glancing at the clock on the bedside table he saw that it was just after five am and the first gentle light of dawn was beginning to filter in through the curtains. He ran a hand over his face, trying to bring his breathing under control, trying to dislodge the sight and sound of her from his mind. But he couldn't. She lurked behind his closed lids, an image from so long ago. An image of what might have been.

Suddenly desperate for a drink and a cigarette, Gene got out of bed and padded through to the living room. The scotch bottle sat on the table next to the telly where he had left it, half-drunk, the night before. His fags were there too and, with his hand still shaking, he lit one and then poured himself a generous measure. He didn't care that it was so early in the morning. He needed something to stabilise himself, bring himself back onto solid ground.

Flopping down in the easy chair, he grabbed the remote and flicked the telly on from standby. The test card girl greeted him with her moronic smile and that freaky looking clown. He watched her for a long moment, thinking about how she reminded him about someone else. Another ghost…

At precisely that moment, the telephone at the other end of the room shrilled loudly, making him jump. Stubbing out his cigarette, he got up and walked over to answer it.

"Hunt."

"Guv, it's Ray," the voice of his DS floated down the line.

"Do you know what bleeding time it is?" Gene demanded, glad to have something else to focus on apart from the past.

"I know, I'm sorry…"

"I could be shagging Sharon Tate in 'ere for all you know, you tosser!" There was silence at the other end of the phone as Ray appeared to be trying to digest this information, "What the 'ell do you want anyway?"

"They've found another one."

Gene froze, all thought of humour vanishing. "Who?"

"Think it might be Laura Hemmings. Dog walker found her down by the river an hour ago. Raped and strangled, Guv, just like the others."

"I'll be right there." Gene put the phone down before Ray could say anymore. Jesus it was happening again, it was all happening again. He didn't know if he could deal with it. Another pretty girl used and discarded like rubbish, another family torn apart, another father screaming at him that it couldn't be true, another boyfriend or husband robbed of the person dearest to them, their future…He shook his head to rid himself of the images. He couldn't afford to let personal feelings cloud this investigation. He was in charge and he had to act like it. It wasn't the right time to be thinking about her. It never was.

XXXX

When he arrived at the scene, the first thing Gene saw as he approached the body was DI Alex Drake crouched down next to it. She was facing away from him and he couldn't help but observe that she had on yet another fetching pair of tight jeans which showed off her arse to complete perfection. This lascivious thought was quickly quelled however as she turned to face him and he saw the seriousness in her eyes.

"Laura Hemmings," she said quietly, "the second to go missing and the second to die." Gene circled the body, "He's increasing."

"'e's what?"

"Speeding up," she explained, "The first victim, Angie O'Rourke. She was missing for nearly two weeks before her body was found. Laura was abducted six days ago. His need is increasing."

"Don't give us yer psycho-babble-whatsit, Bolly," he told her, "Just stick to the bleeding facts."

"That is a 'bleeding fact'," she retorted, "he's increasing…"

"I 'eard you the first time you bored me with that phrase."

"Which means that we can probably expect to find Liz Wilson in the next few days," Alex ploughed on, ignoring him, "and as for Pauline Bennett…"

"One thing at a time, all right?" he glared at her, "In case you hadn't noticed, it's only gone six and I 'aven't had me morning brew yet."

"Since when have you ever drunk anything except your weight in whisky?"

"What brew did you think I was referring to?" his eyes raked over Laura's clothing. "Short skirt, slutty top, 'igh heels…"

"So?" Alex demanded, convinced he was going somewhere unsavoury with that observation.

"Same as the other one," he said.

"Same as all of them. They were all abducted on night's out on the piss."

"Yeah…" Gene gazed at the pathetic figure lying in front of him, the familiarity of it made him want to vomit. He remembered looking at others just like her, looking at one in particular, the despair and the agony…God why did this have to be happening now? When he had tried so hard to forget…

"Are you listening to me?" Alex's voice broke through his thoughts.

"What?"

"I said, we should get the boys to do a sweep of the local area. See if anyone saw anything. If she put up a fight…"

"_If _she put up a fight." He could hear the pathologist's words in his mind again. _"She wouldn't have been able to fight, Gene. She had nothing left to fight with…" _"But yer right," he got to his feet, "the boys can handle it, and we'll get a few plonks onto it too." He ignored the look on Alex's face. "Chris! Ray! Get yerself started on a door to door. I want to know that _someone_ saw something 'ere last night. And by door to door, I do _not _mean pub door to pub door, all right?" They both nodded. "Right," he turned back to Alex, "let's you and me handle the parents."

XXXX

"Well _that _was incredibly helpful! I'm not sure I've ever seen such a touching display of sympathy!" Alex pushed open the door of the office and stormed in two hours later, Gene close behind.

"What?" he demanded.

"Well, I think practically accusing her dad was a really nice touch."

"'e knew more than 'e was letting on," Gene told her, "what kind of father doesn't know what 'is only daughter gets up to of an evening?"

"Half the father's in this city I would imagine!" she shot back.

"'e's as much to blame as whoever did this."

"Oh, that is just…"

"'e should have kept a closer eye on 'er. Letting 'er dress like a tart and roam around the city…"

"She was twenty-seven!"

"It doesn't matter!" he raged at her, his anger bringing her up short, "You don't get it, Bolly, it's doesn't bloody matter! 'e should have taken better care of her! I should have…" He stopped, catching himself. "Just…do something useful, all right?!

"Why is he in such a shit mood?" Alex asked as Gene stormed into his office and slammed the door behind him, causing the glass to rattle ominously. She lifted a file that had been sat on her desk. "I know it's not ideal having another murder victim on our hands but…" she stopped as Ray and Chris exchanged knowing looks. "What?"

"Well it's…you know…" Chris said uncomfortably.

"No I don't know."

"Well, it brings back memories for 'im, don't it?" Chris continued, "Can't be easy for 'im to be reminded all the time."

Alex stared at him. "I have absolutely no idea what you're…"

"What dozy Joe is trying to say," Ray said, "is that this latest girl, all of 'em in fact, remind the Guv of Meg."

Alex frowned, "Meg? Who's Meg?"

"She was his goddaughter, not to mention one of the team. Back in the old days," Ray said, "she disappeared in Manchester in 1974. There was a few of 'em. Taken right off the streets like these poor cows. Raped, strangled and then dumped. Meg was the last, or so we thought." He exchanged another look with Chris, "Meg and the Guv…they were…well…close."

"Of course," Alex said, "his goddaughter. Of course they were close."

"No, he means they were _close,_" Chris said. Alex looked at him, "You know…"

She rolled her eyes, "Chris…"

"He was giving her one!"

Alex was shocked in temporary speechlessness, "You mean Gene Hunt and his own goddaughter…?" Both Chris and Ray nodded. "Well, that wasn't what I expected." She glanced through the office door where Gene was sat staring at something on his desk. She wasn't quite sure what she had expected. Yet the idea that he had been intimate with his goddaughter gave her a slight feeling of both surprise and disgust.

"Look ma'am," Ray said, "it weren't what you think. It weren't how spastic 'ere says it was. 'e cared about Meg. _Really _cared about her. Took 'im years to get 'er death, if 'e even has. So don't go thinking it were something it weren't.

Alex turned back to look at him, "I wasn't thinking anything of the kind." She paused, "The cases in Manchester. Was anyone ever caught?"

Chris shook his head, "The killing stopped after Meg died. We never found out who did it, or why. Not that we didn't try mind."

"Do you think you could have the case files sent down from your old division?"

Ray and Chris exchanged looks. "Why?" the former asked.

Alex fought to keep her temper, "Because, it might be that the murders in Manchester are connected to the murders here in London."

"You're joking," Chris said, "'e waits all these years and then comes down 'ere?"

"It's worth a look, surely?"

"Might take a few days."

"The sooner you get on it, the sooner we'll have them." She waited as they made their way back to their desks and then turned back to face Gene's office. Purposefully she walked in and noticed as she did so, that he quickly slid something off of his desk and into an open drawer.

"What have you got?" he demanded gruffly.

"Preliminary post-mortem report," Alex replied, opening the file "Laura Hemmings was dead about six hours before she was found. Ate her last meal about two hours before death. She was raped and sodomised before being strangled with what appears to be a belt." Gene nodded distractedly, as if he hadn't really heard her. "I've asked Chris and Ray to send down the old files from Manchester."

Gene's head snapped up, "What old files?"

"The ones on the murders committed there in 1974. They told me that there were similarities with these murders."

"What the bleeding 'ell does that have to do with anything?!"

"There might be a connection," she explained patiently, "the killers might have known each other. Or," she paused, "it might be the same person."

"No," Gene shook his head, "not after all this time."

"Then it might be a copycat." She waited for a few seconds, "I understand that one of the Manchester victims was your goddaughter…"

"Chris and Ray have got better things to do with their time than spend it on the phone to those twats back up in Manchester who spend their days hiding away in the Records room," he interrupted her before she could continue, "We've got live investigations down 'ere which need their full attention."

"I appreciate it that but…"

"I'm serious Bolly," he looked up at her and she was struck by the feeling emanating from his gaze, "I don't want some bastarding old cases brought into this. These murders have nothing to do with what happened…"

"Don't you want to know who killed Meg?" The very mention of her name seemed to make Gene visibly wince. "I would have thought you would, especially after all these years."

Gene got to his feet and came to stand in front of her, glorifying in the few inches he had over her in height. "I don't want to talk about 'er. I don't want to hear 'er name mentioned, got it?"

"Gene…"

"Got it?!"

"Fine," she replied easily, "whatever you say."

"Good." He held her gaze for a long moment, almost as if he were about to divulge something to her. Then his gaze changed and he clapped his hands together. "Right, I'm 'ungry. What's for dinner?" With that, he threw open the door, "Christopher, Raymondo. Lunch at Luigi's – now!" The three of them hurried towards the door with Gene stopping to look back at her, "Are you coming or are you watching yer figure?"

"I'll pass," Alex replied. He looked at her up and down before following the other two out into the corridor. She waited until she was sure they had gone before going back into his office and opening the top right hand drawer of his desk. Immediately she was greeted by a picture of a pretty young woman with blonde hair. She was dressed casually in bell bottoms and a cropped top, grinning into the camera and holding a large sunflower. She looked happy, carefree, unaware of what awaited her.

"Well," Alex said to the photograph, "you must be Meg."


	2. Chapter 2

**This is a fairly long, scene-setting chapter. Hope you like it and please leave a review!! Thanks for all the ones left so far!**

**Manchester – April 1973**

If he had to pinpoint the moment he fell in love with Meg, Gene would have said it was the day of her mother's funeral.

You could tell that Catherine Ryan had been a model in her younger days. Long, straight blonde hair, slim figure, always immaculately turned out both in clothing and cosmetics. She had also been the most charming hostess, an excellent cook and, if her husband Ted was to be believed, a fantastic shag.

It was Ted that Gene got to know first. They trained together in Manchester, both joining the force at the age of nineteen ready to take on the post-war world. It had been a rather rude awakening for both of them. But they had helped each other along, aided in no small measure by a shared loved of whisky, and Ted had become the closest thing Gene had to a real brother. His drug-addicted, biological brother didn't count, and hadn't done for quite some time.

When Ted met Catherine, their relationship had changed. Gene had always known it would one day, but he hadn't expected the transformation to be so dramatic. Ted had morphed from a hard-drinking, hard-living twenty one year old to a helpless quivering lovelorn mess. Gene had watched, rather perturbed, as his friend embraced couplehood, marriage and then parenthood, each stage taking him further away from the man Gene had met all those years ago.

Megan Frances Ryan was born on March 19th 1950 and it was clear from the very beginning that Ted was as besotted with his daughter as he had been with Catherine. Megan, or Meg as she became known, was Catherine's mirror image. Blonde, blue-eyed, she resembled an angel. Ted had asked Gene if he would be Meg's godfather. He had hesitated at first. Godparents were supposed to pledge that they would look after the child if anything happened to the parents. Ted might have been right at home as a husband and father but Gene wasn't convinced that it would suit him. A shag was about as committed as he got. A nagging wife and screaming child didn't exactly make for relaxing evenings down the pub, but Ted had pleaded however, stating that he could trust no other person, and Gene had reluctantly agreed.

The first time he babysat Meg it all went horribly wrong. Gone was the angelic child and in her place was a screaming, shitting devil, who refused to do anything he asked of her. He spent the best part of three hours trying to get her to go to sleep and almost, but not quite, resorted to pouring whisky into her milk. Deciding that he rather needed it himself, Ted and Catherine had come home from their dinner party to find Gene passed out on the couch and Meg crawling aimlessly around the floor. Catherine had been furious and it had only been Ted's successful attempts to placate her that saved Gene from having a frying pan cracked over his head.

Unsurprisingly, he wasn't asked to babysit again, much to his relief. Shortly thereafter, he was promoted to Detective Sergeant and shifted to a different police station. He started seeing less and less of Ted and, consequently, Meg. When he did see his old friend, it was on a rare night down the local boozer. Rare for Ted that was. Gene, of course, practically found himself living there.

It was a Friday night in 1965 when Gene saw Meg again. He had just got back home from the pub, when he heard frantic knocking on the door followed by a loud burst of drunken female laughter. When he opened the door, he was surprised to find two unidentified females, leaning against the door for support. The two of them were clearly pissed out of their brains.

"Uncle Gene!" Meg had declared loudly, throwing herself forward into his arms, "'Ow have you been? Not seen you in _ages!_"

"Meg!" he had said, "What the bloody 'ell…?"

"You 'ave to 'elp us," she had interrupted, turning wide blue eyes on him, "Me and Sandra 'ere…" she gestured behind her to the other girl who was still giggling uncontrollably, "we've 'ad…ad a little drink."

"I can see that!"

"We're meant to be staying at my place," Meg continued, "but me Mum and Dad'll go mad if they catch us like this. Can we stay 'ere?"

It hadn't exactly been his idea of the perfect end to the evening. He wasn't exactly sober himself and quite fancied thumbing through the latest edition of _Jugs_. Having two drunk fifteen year old girls to stay didn't exactly fit into that plan. But, she _was _his goddaughter and he knew the streets well enough to know that he couldn't send them back out. "Yes you can stay."

"You're the bloody best!" Meg had declared, kissing him on the cheek. She and Sandra had then proceeded to pass out in his bed, leaving Gene with the added luxury of the couch. Of course he had phoned Ted and Catherine to let them know the girls were there.

"They didn't have enough for a cab back to your place," he told a rather grumpy Ted, "I didn't want to send 'em back out so I said they could stop over. I'll drop 'em off tomorrow morning."

"You're a mate, Gene," Ted had replied, "thanks very much."

Of course the best laid plans always fall through. At five the next morning, he had been woken by a severely hungover Meg who shook him furiously awake and hissed viciously that she didn't think Sandra was breathing. One frantic dash to the hospital later and it was confirmed that Sandra had clearly drunk more than she could handle. Ted and Catherine were called to come and pick Meg up and all hell broke loose.

"You didn't tell me she was _drunk _Gene!" Ted raged as the full story came tumbling out.

"I didn't think it would do any good!" he had retaliated, "What would have been the point in worrying the two of you…"

"She is my _daughter! _And you should have told me!"

As this exchange took place, Meg sat shamefully in the corner, swinging her legs. When Sandra's parents had arrived and it had been established that Sandra was going to be all right, Ted hauled Meg to her feet and proceeded to frogmarch her to the door. As she passed, she paused and look sorrowfully at Gene. "Sorry Uncle Gene."

"It's all right love," he had replied, "any time. You know that."

Meg had nodded, but Ted had looked at him as if to say 'over my dead body.' Catherine hadn't even looked at him at all. "It wasn't me that got her drunk!" he wanted to yell after them, but he didn't.

Two days later, Meg turned up at the station to apologise. "I'm sorry," she said again, "I didn't mean for Dad to yell at you."

"I'm used to it," he'd replied.

"I got bollocked when I got 'ome," she revealed.

"Oh yeah?"

Meg nodded solemnly, "Grounded for six months! For 'aving a drink!" she shook her head, "You'd think we'd killed someone."

"If you're grounded, 'ow come you're 'ere?"

She grinned at him, "Sneaked out, didn't I?"

Three years later, that same determination still lurked inside Meg. Gene met Ted in the pub one night, them both having long since put the drunk episode behind them, and he appeared to have something on his mind.

"Meg wants to join the force," he revealed, shaking his head, "dozy cow."

"What's wrong with that?" Gene asked.

"Come on, Gene, you know what it's like! My daughter, a plonk? I don't bloody think so. I know 'ow they get treated. I know 'ow _I _treat 'em," he glanced sideways at his friend, "and you."

Gene grunted. Ted was right. Women in the police force were generally considered a joke. Consigned to uniform, cleaning out cells, doing the shit work, making tea and coffee…he didn't want that for Meg. "Reckon she'd make a good copper."

Ted looked at him, "You think so?"

"She's got a brain in 'er head…"

"I don't know about that."

"I could use someone like her on my team."

Ted paused, glass halfway to mouth and stared at his friend, "You could use someone like Meg on _your _team? Don't make me laugh, Gene."

"I'm being serious!"

"What woman is going to be taken seriously in CID?" Ted shook his head, "Besides, she'd have to start in uniform. She'd still be a plonk."

"Only for a bit," Gene argued, "let 'er do 'er year and then I'll request her."

Ted looked at him as if he had gone mad, "'Ave you completely lost your mind?"

But Gene stuck to his guns and, six months later, in May 1968, Meg joined the force. Catherine was completely against it, and voiced her opinion rather forcefully when Gene met her in the street one day, but Ted had seemingly come round to the idea and almost appeared proud when he first saw Meg in uniform.

That first year flew past, not least because of the rise of 'Manc The Knife,' a serial killer stalking the streets of Manchester. He murdered three women, leaving a red geranium in their hands as a calling card. Women were afraid to walk the streets. Ted turned up at the station every night to take Meg home, much to her chagrin.

"Dad, I'm a police officer!" Gene heard her shouting at him one evening, "I can look after meself! Look," she said, catching sight of him, "Gene doesn't think I can't look after meself, do you?"

"That's not the point Meg and you know it!" Ted shouted back, "Anyway, it's DCI Hunt to you when you're in uniform. Now I've got to be at Bob and Sally's house in twenty minutes so let's go!"

"I'll take her," Gene had offered.

"I don't need anyone to take me!"

Ted glanced at his watch, "You'd be doing me an 'uge favour, mate. Thanks. You," he pointed at Meg, "Straight home." With that, he had hightailed it away, leaving Meg and Gene standing.

"He doesn't trust me," she moaned as she got into the car, "Thinks I'm an idiot."

"That's not true," Gene reassured her, "'e's your dad. Of course 'e's going to worry about you."

"I'm eighteen, not eight. Beside, if Manc The Knife did come after me, I reckon I could take 'im."

"Oh yeah, with what?"

"I'm quite good at self-defence you know. You should try me out sometime."

"I'll pass on that, thank you very much." By this point, he had reached the house, "Now, like your dad said, straight home."

Meg had made a face at him, but had kissed him on the cheek anyway, "Thanks Gene…I mean Guv…I mean…oh whatever!" With that, she had got out of the car and hurried up the path and into the house.

Eight months later, the killer was caught and the city breathed a sigh of relief. Gene didn't forget what he had said he would do and duly requested Meg to join the team. There were a few raised eyebrows, not least from DC Ray Carling, a fairly new addition to the team himself, who seemed to resent any female that wasn't prepared to jump into bed with him.

"A plonk?" he had said to Gene after the announcement was made, "In CID?"

"Yes Ray, a plonk in CID. Now before you go opening that big trap of yours and making any other stupid comments, let me remind you that WDC Ryan is my goddaughter and if I 'ear of anyone giving 'er an 'ard time, they'll have to answer to me, got it?"

"Yes Guv," Ray had acquiesced, but Gene was aware of the fact that he ribbed Meg whenever he had the chance, tried to make her look stupid and basically treated her like shit. At first, he was ready to wade in with the heavy boots and knock seven bells out of his cocky DC, but found he didn't need to. Meg was more than capable of looking after herself and could come out with some one-liners that even put Gene to shame.

"She needs a nice young man," Ted lamented one evening, two years later. It was summer, 1971 and the city was scorching. As usual though, he and Gene were downing pints in the pub, oblivious to the weather.

"Who does?" Gene asked, already slightly worse for wear.

"Meg. She needs a nice young man to marry 'er and give 'er kids."

"Give 'er kids?"

Ted nodded, "Women's place in the 'ome and all that. Granted I let her do this copper thing for a bit, but it's now time for 'er to pack it in and do something useful. Besides, I'm not getting any younger and it would be nice to have grandkids before I need a zimmer frame."

Gene had looked at him in disbelief, "You're the same age as me, you tosser!"

"Exactly!" Ted had drunkenly pointed at him, "You should be doing summat with your life too, Gene. Plenty of nice young girls out there you know."

"What, like Meg?"

"Hey," Ted looked at him warningly, "Don't even…"

"I wasn't, you nonce!" Gene ordered another round, "Meg's a good copper though. It'd be a shame to lose 'er off the team."

"Ain't there any nice young officers on your team who would marry 'er?"

Gene thought hard. Ray was out of the question. Not only did he disrespect Meg like nobody's business, but there's no way in hell Gene would let him anywhere near his goddaughter in the biblical sense. The newest recruit, DC Chris Skelton was a nice enough lad, but a bit slow on the uptake. Meg would eat him for breakfast. He ran through the others that he knew and drew a blank.

"I'll find someone for 'er," Ted said confidently, "I'll 'ave 'er married off by this time next year."

"What do you mean 'e's 'ere for me?" Meg asked Gene, three months later as they stood in the doorway of the community centre, smoking, as her parents anniversary party was in full swing.

"You dad invited that bloke 'ere for you," he had repeated, "'e thinks you'll fancy 'im enough to marry 'im and quit the force."

Meg screwed up her face, "You've got to be bloody joking! 'Ave you seen 'im? He looks like Tony bloody Hancock! God, me dad has no idea what kind of blokes I go for!"

"Oh yeah?" Gene was interested in this, "What kind of blokes do you go for? Men like Raymondo?"

"No!"

"Chris?" She shook her head. "Who then?"

"I dunno, but not 'im," she gestured again across the room. "I wondered why 'e was sat next to me. I wanted to talk to you about the case." At the time, they had been investigating a spate of armed robberies. "Oh God, 'e's coming over. Quick, let's get out of 'ere!" She had grabbed his arm and hauled him round the side of the building. "Let's go to the pub."

"It's your parents' party," he had pointed out, "Don't you think they'll wonder where you went?"

"Nah, they're bladdered already as it is. Come on! Quick, before he comes out 'ere!" So, they had taken off to the nearest pub where they had both proceeded to get very drunk and had to be thrown out come closing time.

"You know what, Meg," Gene had slurred as they had fallen into a taxi, "You are my kind of woman…"

"Howzat then…cause I can 'old me drunk…I mean, me drink?"

"Exactly! Too bloody right!"

"Shame then that you're me godfather. Not to mention far too old for me."

He had nodded in full agreement, "Bloody shame."

Eighteen months later, Christmas 1972, Meg announced she was getting married. The lucky young man was Robert Hathaway, a lawyer whom Meg had met during a particularly intense interrogation where she was holding the suspect down by his ears while Gene proceeded to torture him. Robert had come bursting in and demanded that the questioning stop. Meg had been instantly smitten.

Gene had found he didn't like it. She started talking non-stop about Robert. About how clever he was, about how honest he was. Not to mention the fact that she started questioning his methods as being out of date and inhumane, things she had never done before. She was slipping away from him and he didn't like it one bit. It also didn't help that Robert was a sanctimonious tosser whom Gene would have liked nothing better than to have mown down in his Cortina.

Ted and Catherine were delighted. They thought Robert was the perfect young man for their daughter, destined to make her happy and take care of her. Gene boycotted the lavish engagement party they put on for her, claiming that he had business to take care of. Meg hadn't believed a word of it and, after the party was over, had come storming round to his flat for an explanation.

"Why weren't you there?" she demanded when he had opened the door, "I thought you of all people would have been there."

"I told your dad I 'ad work to do."

"In a bottle, was it?" she replied, anger marring her features. "I thought we were friends Gene."

"We are."

"I thought you cared about me. You're me godfather for Christ's sake!"

"I do care about you, which is why I can't understand why you're marrying that bastard!"

"Why? Because 'e's smart? Because 'e's a lawyer? Or because you just don't agree with 'im? You're pissed off because 'e stopped that interrogation."

"That were months ago! Despite what you might think sweetheart, I've got better things to do with me time than worry about one poncy lawyer!"

"Fine! She said, "Don't bother coming to the wedding then!"

"I 'adn't been planning to!" he shouted after her as she had left. "Stupid cow."

They didn't speak for weeks unless they absolutely had to, usually by Gene barking an order at her and Meg silently complying. He knew she was angry and hurt, but then so was he….and he wasn't quite sure why.

In the end, it all came to a head one night as he worked late, trying to catch up on the bastarding paperwork he had let slide over the last few weeks. Everyone else had left hours ago, so he was surprised when there was a soft knock on the office door.

"Come in." He had been even more surprised when Meg had appeared. "Oh yes, what's this then? Come with me wedding invite 'ave you?"

"No," she had replied, and that's when he saw that she was crying. "It's not me, it's…it's Mum."

"What about 'er?"

"You know 'ow she hasn't been well the last few weeks?"

"No I don't seeing as you've been giving me the bloody silent treatment!" At that, Meg burst into loud sobs. "Shit, Meg," Gene had got to his feet and walked over to her. "Time of the month is it?" He patted her awkwardly on the back, "Come on, sit down." She had sank into the chair and put her head in her hands. "What about your Mum?"

"The doctor says she's got cancer," Meg had replied, lifting her head, "Only a couple of months to live."

Gene had been so shocked he couldn't respond at first. Not Catherine. Bright, beautiful, if at times irritating, Catherine. Not Meg's mum. "'ow…I mean…when…"

"She's been coughing dead bad for the last few months," Meg explained, "she went to get it checked out and…it's cancer…" she started crying again, "Me mum's going to die Gene…"

"Come on," he said, pulling her to her feet and into his arms, "Come on, you're all right."

"What am I going to do?"

He didn't have an answer for that, so instead held her and rubbed her back and let her cry against him. "How's your dad?" he had asked finally.

Meg pulled back, "'e went straight down the pub," she said, "'e can't handle it. I don't think I can either…" she stepped into him again, "It's like…Mum…she's not meant to die. She's not supposed to…"

"What about Robert?" Gene said the name trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone.

Meg didn't say anything for a long moment. "It's over between us," she said finally.

"Oh."

"Don't pretend you're not 'appy about it."

"I'm not."

She pulled back, "You're not pretending or you're not 'appy?"

He didn't reply, "Come on, I'll take you 'ome."

They had driven there in silence, back to a house which seemed bleaker than it had done before. When had pulled up, Meg had sat looking out of the window, seemingly in no hurry to move. "They want to keep Mum in the 'ospital," she said, "it'll be weird, just me and Dad." She turned to look at him, "If I need to get out, clear me 'head…can I come to yours?"

He nodded, "Course."

She hadn't done it. As Catherine's condition deteriorated, so did Ted and Meg was forced to look after him. More often than not he would go home practically paralytic. If he went home at all. Some nights he would take himself down the hospital and sleep off the effects in a chair next to Catherine's bed. The nurses gave him leeway because he was a copper and because his wife was dying.

A few months later, Gene, Meg and his new DI Sam Tyler were all involved in an interrogation. Meg was once again playing the role of holding the suspect down, Gene was hitting him and Sam was standing nearby trying to interject. Gene would never forget Sam's bizzare reaction when he first met Meg ("Your name's Meg Ryan?") but the two of them appeared to get on well. Nothing too close of course, he would never permit that. Besides, it looked suspiciously as though Tyler was wanting to get into WPC Annie Cartwright's knickers.

During the interrogation, Annie came in, her expression anxious.

"No place for ladies Cartwright," Gene told her, causing Meg to glare at him.

"It's a message for Meg, Guv," Annie said.

"What is it?" Meg asked from her position on the floor.

"It's the 'ospital," Annie said, "they said you should go now."

Four hours later, Catherine had died. She was forty. Gene went round to the house that night to find Meg there alone. Ted had, predictably, taken himself off down the pub to drown his sorrows. She had clearly been drinking herself but, and he surprised himself here, he knew that it wasn't what she needed. So, he made her a cup of tea and they sat together long into the night talking about the old days. About the time she and her mate Sandra had come to the house, about how Ted hadn't wanted her to join the police, about Catherine. And when she had cried, he had held her and promised her that he would be at the funeral.

"I need someone there," she said, "someone to be strong for me, because I'll need to be strong for me dad." And he had looked at her and thought that, at twenty-three, why should she have to be?

And so, here he was. And here she was. The day of her mother's funeral. Sitting beside her in the church, squeezing her hand when she grabbed his, watching as she cried, watching as Ted drunkenly sobbed, knowing that whatever happened, he would look after Meg.

And realising for the first time that he was in love with her.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for all the reviews guys! Keep 'em coming!**

**London – April 1981**

"Another round, Luigi!" Gene shouted above the noise. It was the end of the day and, as usual, they had descended on the wine bar en masse to drink away the horrors of the shift. At least that was Gene's intention. He was planning to drink so much this evening that he wouldn't have to think about Angie O'Rourke or Laura Hemmings…or Meg. Those brief moments earlier, when he had looked at her picture, when he had seen the body, when Alex had said her name, had brought him physical pain. A gut-wrenching pain that had struck severely and then passed as quickly as it had come. It was a constant reminder. She was always there. She would never leave him. "Come on Raymondo, keep up!"

Ray looked at him as though he were mad, "Trying, Guv, believe me."

Gene sunk half his pint in one go and looked around, "Where's Bolly gone?"

"Upstairs Guv," Chris replied.

"What the bloody 'ell for?" he demanded. Chris shrugged, "Stupid tart." Alex infuriated him more than he liked to admit. She was the bloody female equivalent of Sam bloody Tyler. Always had to be right, always knew better. When he thought about Alex, about the kind of person she was, about how high she had climbed in the force for a woman, he couldn't help comparing her to Meg. Meg had been like Alex. Mouthy…outspoken. If she had lived…the pain hit him again and he sunk the remainder of his pint to make it go away.

"Listen," he said to the other two, "did you request old files from Manchester? Ones relating to the old murders?"

Chris nodded, "DI Drake told us to, Guv. She said there might be a connection with the killer there and the killer 'ere."

"Not bloody likely," Gene mumbled.

Ray and Chris exchanged looks, "You don't think so then, Guv?" the former asked.

"What, 'e waits seven years and then changes city? I don't bloody think so Raymondo, do you?"

"DI Drake seems to think so."

"Oh really? Take everything she says as gospel now, do you?"

"No, course not," Ray defended himself, "I'm just saying."

"Yeah well, she's talking out of 'er arse."

"You've got to admit though, Guv," Chris said, "They do look the same. The victims I mean. Young, pretty. I was thinking," he said excitedly, "maybe after Meg, the killer had a scare. Killed a cop by accident and panicked. That's why he stopped for a while…"

"Chris!" Ray said warningly.

"What?" Chris looked at Ray and then at Gene, "Oh…sorry Guv, I didn't mean…"

"Drink up Christopher, come on!" Gene said, desperately trying to change the subject, desperately trying to get her out of his head, desperately trying to stop the pain. "Another round, Luigi."

"I never thought I 'ear meself say this Guv," Ray said slowly, "but don't you think you've had enough?"

Gene stared at him, "No, I don't. The Gene Genie can drink all of you under this table."

"We know that, Guv, but maybe…"

"You saying you don't want another drink, Raymondo, because it can be arranged you know?"

"No, I'll have another," Ray said, almost fearful to refuse.

"Good," Gene said. He leaned into them again, "When those files get 'ere, I want to see 'em first, got it?"

"Why, Guv?" Chris asked.

"I don't recall 'aving to explain meself to you in the past Christopher," Gene said, "and I'm not about to start now. So, when they get 'ere, I want 'em. Understood?"

"Understood," Ray and Chris said in unison.

At that moment, Alex appeared at the table. She had changed out of her work clothes and was wearing a rather fetching pair of tight black trousers and low cut top. "Well, well Bolly," Gene said, "you do scrub up well." Alex made a face and sat down opposite him. "Got you another drink."

"I see you got me another four," she commented on the glasses in front of her. "Was I upstairs that long?" Gene didn't reply. "Listen, about earlier…"

"I want you to do a profile, Bolly," he cut her off, "a profile of the killer. You might as well use whatever talent it is you got."

Alex looked at him, "A profile?"

"Isn't that what you do?"

"Of course, but…" she paused, "I didn't think you put much stock in what I do."

"I don't," he replied, "but…"

"I know." She caught his gaze and held it for a long time. Gene felt his nether regions stir pleasantly as he wondered for the one millionth time what it would be like to take her right over the table.

"You know Bolly…"

"Gene!" He looked up to see the familiar figure of Ted Ryan striding across the room towards the table.

"Oh shit," he groaned.

"What?" Alex swivelled in her seat as Ted approached.

"I have to talk to you," Ted said when he reached them, slightly out of breath."DCI Ted Ryan, this is me DI, Alex Drake," Gene made the introductions, trying to avoid what he knew was coming next.

"It's nice to…" Alex began.

"Let's talk," Ted replied, ignoring her.

"Why don't you sit down and 'ave a drink, Ted?"

"I need to talk to you _now!_" Ted's ferocity made the noise around them die down slightly. Reluctantly, Gene got to his feet and followed Ted through the wine bar to the front entrance. As the night air hit him, he realised he was indeed quite drunk, the effects of at least six pints beginning to tell on him and he put one hand on the door to steady himself. "Why didn't you call me back?" Ted demanded, rounding on him. "I left messages…"

"About what?"

"You bloody well know about what! About this killer! About these women! Is it…" he stopped as someone passed them, "Is it the same one?"

"No," Gene said immediately.

"How do you know?"

"Because that was Manchester 1974. This is London 1981, Ted, it doesn't work like that."

"Don't get smart with me, Gene, I'm really not in the pissing mood!" Ted advanced on him, "I need to know if it's the same one that killed all the others. That killed Meg." There it was. Her name again. And there was the pain, right on cue. Gene didn't say anything. "Have you forgotten her?" Ted demanded, "Megan? Five foot six, blonde hair, blue eyes, nice figure…well you'd remember that well wouldn't you?"

"Don't do this now."

"Why not? You think seven years has dulled the pain, Gene? I lost me wife and a year later me only daughter. Don't you think I don't think about that every day? I do. There isn't a day that passes that I don't think about Meg and what she could 'ave been. What she might be now. What she should be…" he trailed off as emotion overtook him.

_Jesus, _Gene thought, _what do you think I do every day?_

"She would 'ave been safe if she 'ad just married Robert and left the force when she 'ad the chance!" Ted raged on, angry tears in his eyes, "But no, she 'ad something to prove! Not to mention the fact that she couldn't leave you! You! Of all people!" Gene fought hard to keep his temper. He had been here before. He knew that no matter what he said, Ted would never change his mind. Yet he couldn't stop himself from descending into the age old banter.

"She loved me," he said.

"She was a child! She didn't know what love was."

"Yes she bloody did."

"Maybe your kind of love, Gene," Ted spat, "the kind that involves shagging 'er anywhere and everywhere. The kind that involves using 'er to satisfy yourself and then walking away from your responsibilities. Maybe that's the kind of love you taught 'er…"

"I _loved _her!" Gene stepped forward, beginning to lose control, the alcohol and pain mixing dangerously. "You might not 'ave thought so, Ted, but I _did_! And I was there for 'er an 'ell of a lot more than you were. Especially after Catherine died! Maybe at first she was looking for some kind of father figure…"

"You bastard…"

"…but she _loved _me and I loved 'er and I would 'ave done _anything _for 'er…"

"Except keep 'er safe. Isn't that right, Gene?" Ted's eyes glinted with anger. "All that crap you spouted about looking after 'er. About protecting 'er. And yet you couldn't even do that. She still died. And what she left behind…you couldn't even bring yourself to look at. Not that you'd shown much interest before she died either if I remember correctly."

_Shit, don't bring that up. Please, don't bring that up…I can't deal with that, not now…_

"Aren't you even going to ask?" Ted demanded, his furious gaze boring into Gene, forcing him to look away. "No, I didn't bloody think so. I want to be kept in the loop on this one," He changed tact just in time to stop Gene lamping him. "I want to know _everything_ about this investigation."

"You're out of your jurisdiction, Ted," Gene said, glad the conversation was back on business matters. "You should go 'ome to Manchester. 'ear about it on the news like everyone else."

"No," Ted shook his head, "No I'm hanging around, Gene. Everywhere you go on this, I'm going to be behind you. I'll be watching every sodding move you make. And if I think for one minute you aren't doing this right…"

"Don't bloody threaten me," Gene interrupted him.

"I mean it, Gene. You owe it to Meg to nail this bastard. And I'm going to make sure that you do." With that, he turned and made to walk back up the steps before pausing and turning back around, "I 'ave to be able to tell 'im something. I 'ave to be able to tell 'im the truth one day. I want to be able to tell 'im what really happened." Gene swallowed hard. Ted really knew just how to find that raw spot and rub it hard. "I don't expect you to understand that. I don't expect you to know what it's like to be a parent." With that, he hurried up the steps and disappeared into the night.

Gene stayed where he was for a long time, his mind racing. Why had Ted brought all that up? It was all he could do to function on a daily basis without thinking about Meg, about everything. All the mistakes he had made, all the regrets he had…

"Everything all right?" Alex appeared behind him.

"Fine," he replied, keeping his tone as neutral as possible.

"DCI Ryan," she observed, "is he any relation to…"

"Yeah," he turned quickly to face her, "yeah he is. And I need another drink!" With that, he pushed past her and headed back into the warmth, noise and oblivion.

**Manchester – April 1973**

The post-funeral tea was winding down at the Ryan house. The top brass had long since left and only the faithful few remained, namely Gene, Ray, Chris, Annie and Sam. Ted had been an elusive figure since the service finished. He had apparently stopped off at the pub on the way back to the house and sunk a few pints before returning home. He had managed to say a few words to people before going upstairs and collapsing on his bed, leaving Meg with the task of playing hostess. She had risen to the occasion marvellously as far as Gene was concerned as he had spent the entire time watching her. A few moments ago, she had lifted a drink and headed out into the back garden. Leaving the others talking, Gene followed her outside and found her smoking at the far end.

"You all right?" he asked as he approached her. She turned and he could see the tears streaked down her face. She nodded, but didn't say anything. "You've done really well, you know."

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"Definitely an eleven." He lit a cigarette and they stood for a long moment together without speaking. He tried not to look at her, as every glance created new waves of feeling inside him. Feelings that he knew were completely inappropriate.

"Thanks for everything," she said suddenly, "I couldn't 'ave got through today without you. Dad was bloody useless."

"He 'as just lost 'is wife."

"And I've just lost me mum," she replied sharply. "Sorry, sorry…" she dropped her cigarette and put her head in her hands, "I don't mean to…"

"It's all right," he automatically stepped forward and took her in his arms. Instantly he regretted it as he felt himself involuntarily harden at the feel of her pressed against him. He made to step back and push her away from him, but she had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist, her face buried in his chest. "Shit."

"What?" she craned her neck back and looked up at him.

"Nothing," he said. "I'll get the others out of 'ere. Give you and your dad a bit of space."

Meg stepped back, "Not sure I want that to be honest. I don't know what to say to 'im. All he does is cry and when e's not crying e's drinking and…" she sighed heavily, "I wanted to talk to you about me coming back to work."

"Take all the time you need," he says, "there's no rush for you to come back."

"But I want to," she said earnestly, "I don't want to spend every day here, Gene, I couldn't bear it. I need space. I need to be away from me dad. Please," she looked at him, her eyes wide, "I want to come back on Monday. Please."

He reached out and ruffled her hair affectionately, "As if I could stop you." She smiled gratefully at him and he found himself gently running his fingers down the side of her face. He was overcome with an overwhelming desire to kiss her. _Christ, get a grip…she's your goddaughter Hunt, come on…_He pulled his hand away and coughed to cover his embarrassment, "Well…I'll go and see what's going on inside."

"Ok," she replied, "I'll be there in a minute."

Gene headed back inside and found the others standing around chatting. "Come on you lot! Let's leave Meg and 'er dad alone."

"I've just got meself another drink, Guv," Ray protested.

"Well I'll buy you another down the Railway Arms," Gene replied as Meg appeared through the back door.

"Thanks for coming, everyone," she said, addressing them all, "I really appreciate your support."

"Will you be all right?" Annie asked, stepping forward and hugging her.

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Meg hugged her back and then the others in turn. One by one they filed out the front door leaving only Gene behind.

"I can stay if you want," he said, half hoping she would say yes and half hoping she would say no.

Meg shook her head, "I'll be ok, really. I'll take Dad some coffee and make 'im some dinner. That should hopefully do the trick."

He nodded, "Well, if you need me…"

"I know where you are," she smiled, "and I'll see you on Monday."

"Yeah," he said, "see you then." With that, he followed the others outside and climbed into the car. As he revved the engine, he looked back and saw Meg framed in the doorway. She waved and he felt his heart contract.

"I'm worried about 'er, Guv," Annie said from where she was squashed between Ray and Chris in the backseat. "I don't think she should be by 'erself."

"She's not by 'erself, Cartwright," he shot back, "Ted's there."

"Yeah, upstairs in bed drunk," she replied, "maybe I should stay with her."

"No," Gene replied, "she didn't want anyone to stay with her." He waved back at Meg and pulled away from the kerb, "Besides," he muttered under his breath, "if anyone was going to stay, it would be me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks everyone who's reviewing. Glad you're enjoying it! Keep them coming!**

**London– May 1981**

_"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"_

_"Let go of me arm, Gene!"_

_"No, not until you hear what I 'ave to say!"_

_"What the 'ell are you on about?"_

_"You can't start seeing 'im again, Meg, you just can't."_

_"Since when did you become me jailer? Like I've said, you're not me dad, I can do what I like!"_

_"Please, just listen to me…"_

_"You still 'aven't got over what 'appened in that interrogation 'ave you? You're still holding a grudge like some daft schoolboy!"_

_"No…"_

_"That's pathetic, Gene, really pathetic!"_

_"If you won't listen to me, you dozy tart, then I guess I'll just 'ave to show you…"_

"Boss? Boss?" Gene looked up to see Chris hovering in the doorway to his office, holding a bunch of files in his arms.

"What is it?" he asked, surprised at how his voice came out, quiet and breathless. "What are you standing there for, you pillock!" He sounded more authoritative that time.

"The files 'ave come down from Manchester." Gene stared at the bundle. Which one was Meg's? "What do you want me to…?"

"Put 'em over there," he gestured to the far corner of his desk. Chris did as obliged and then quickly left the office. Gene got up and closed the door behind him, glancing around to make sure there was no sign of Alex. If she knew the files were here she would be in like a shot demanding to see them. He needed to see them himself first. Needed to be prepared. He stood over the pile and flicked through them, watching each name flash past his eyes until the one he was looking for appeared, right at the bottom. _Ryan, Megan Frances._ He lifted it and stared at the white label and printed name for a long moment, before walking back around his desk and sitting back down.

He laid the file down on the desk in front of him, still starting at it. The paper edges were slightly curled, the effect of having been handled by large numbers of people and then shoved into storage with the others. He wanted to open it, and yet couldn't seem to find the courage.

Instead, he opened his desk drawer again and took out the photograph he kept there. Meg looked happy in the picture. A young woman with everything in front of her. It had been taken at one of the police summer picnics, long before he had fallen in love with her, long before he had ever touched her. Somehow, it had found its way into his possession and he had kept it, even when he had the real thing in his arms. It was even more precious to him now than it ever had been then.

Gene thought back to the vision he had been having when Chris walked in. The first time he had ever kissed Meg. It had been an action borne out of anger and frustration. Sexual jealousy, which he had never understood until the moment when he had seen her with that twat again. It had been the first time he had shared with her how he felt. The first step that had started them both down a path neither of them had experienced before.

He opened the file. Clipped to the left hand side were photographs of Meg. The first was one which Ted had provided them with after she had gone missing. It had been at least two years out of date but, like the one he had himself, it showed her happy and carefree. He touched it, running his fingers over her face, remembering what it had been like to touch the real thing. Underneath it were the aftermath pictures. Photographs taken of her body. The first was of her face, waxy and pale, the bruising around her neck clear to see, the imprint of a hand visible over her mouth. That mouth that he had loved to kiss. Then there were pictures of her other injuries. Bruising and scratches over her body, and the last one, the finger marks on her inner thighs…

He put the first photograph back on top, hiding the others, and re-clipped them back into the file. Then he turned to the paperwork on the right hand side. It was the most detailed of all the files, purely because it had been the one he spent the most time on and forced others to do likewise. There were handwritten notes, Annie's handwriting and some of Sam's. There were statements, taken from Meg's friends, the people she had been with the night she disappeared, from Ted, from him. A copy of Meg's birth certificate was also in the file along with the other birth certificate…

"Guv, I don't suppose…" He hadn't even heard the door open but suddenly Alex was standing in front of him, looking down at the file. "Is that…?"

"Don't they teach you to bloody knock where you come from?" he demanded angrily, slamming the file shut. "What do you want?"

"Is that one of the files from Manchester?" Alex finished her sentence.

"No."

She walked over to the remaining pile and looked through it, "These are the names of the women murdered in Manchester." She looked back at him, "I suppose that's Meg's file."

"I told you not to say…"

"The sixth victim's file, then," Alex interrupted, "although I don't see what good not using her name does to anyone, least of all you." He didn't reply and she sat down in the chair opposite him. "Look, I didn't say anything after her dad turned up at Luigi's last month but…"

"Then don't say anything now." He didn't want to be reminded of that night. Ted's anger, his bitter recrimination, which wasn't exactly without foundation.

"Gene…"

"Alex."

She held his gaze for a long moment. "You asked me to do a profile. I can't do that if I don't have all the information on all the victims."

He nodded at the pile on the desk, "Then take them and get on with it. But I've already told you it's not the same killer."

"I need _all _the files." She nodded at Meg's, "All of them."

Gene looked at her again. He trusted her – he knew he did. But somehow, turning over Meg's file, was like turning her over, handing her to another, admitting that he couldn't do it himself. He looked back down at it, at the picture of her smiling up at him. Then he closed it over and passed it to her.

"Thank you," she said softly.

"Just promise me one thing, Bolly," he said, as she made to leave.

"What?"

"Whatever you read in there, you won't judge me." She frowned, clearly unsure as to what he was talking about. He nodded at her, telling her silently that if she didn't know now, then she soon will.

"All right," she said. Then she left, taking the files with her, taking Meg with her.

**Manchester – May 1973**

"Guv? Meg…WDC Ryan and I have a theory."

Gene turned from where he had been yelling in Sam's face and looked at Annie who was leaning on the end of Meg's desk. Then he looked at Meg and she nodded in agreement. "Really? Go on then – astound us with your female intuition."

It was a month after Catherine's funeral. Meg had come back to her work as agreed and had thrown herself into their latest case, namely arson attacks on two Asian shopkeepers. Gene had watched her, waited for any sign of her cracking under the pressure, but it never came. She attacked it with gusto, coming in early and staying late, pouring over all the evidence. He had come in one morning at six, convinced he would be first, only to find her already at her desk going over statements. As much as the thought of her crumbling worried him, so to did this display of eagerness.

"Don't you think you should be going 'ome?" he had asked her one night as the hands on the clock slipped to eight o'clock. He had only stayed because she had. Sat in his office and pretended to do work just to be there for her.

"I'm not finished yet," she had replied, never lifting her head.

"It wasn't a question," he had said, sliding the piece of paper she was writing on away from her. Only then had she looked at him and he had seen the utter exhaustion behind her eyes. "You don't have to push yourself so hard, you know."

"I don't want to go 'ome," she had readily confessed. "When 'e's there, I worry and when 'e's not there, I worry."

"Ted?"

She had nodded, "I keep waiting for 'im to come 'ome and tell me 'e's got the sack. With the amount of drinking e's doing…" she had tailed off and shook her head, "Sometimes, I just can't bear it."

His heart had ached for her right then and there and he had wanted nothing more than to hold her, but instead, he had thrown her jacket at her. "Come on, I'll buy you a curry. No arguments." So they had found themselves at the Bombay Palace and he had kept her there as late as possible. Finally, when he had taken her home around midnight, they had both been relieved to see lights on in the house.

"'E's 'ome then," Meg had said, with a sigh, "At least I know e's there." Then she had turned to him and leaned over towards him so that she was unbearable close to him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," he had replied, glad for the darkness so that she couldn't see the effect her nearness had on him. "I'll see you tomorrow, bright and early."

"Bright and early," she had echoed, before kissing him on the cheek and then getting out of the car. Ever after, he watched for any other signs, always ready with the same offer if she needed it. But she hadn't. In fact, in the last few days, she had seemed remarkably upbeat…

"There's no need to be sarcastic," she quipped now, glaring at him.

"'Urry up before we die of boredom," he replied, ignoring her.

"We don't think it is the white supremacists," Annie said, "we think it might be someone closer to 'ome."

Gene looked at Ray, Chris and Sam and then looked back at the women, "Well that is bloody brilliant," he said, "I mean, now it's obvious!"

Ray snickered, "Give a plonk room to breathe and all you get is crap."

"Shut up!" Meg snapped, "You won't be saying that when we nail the bastards and you're left looking even more of a div than you already do!"

"Shut your mouth _WDC _Ryan," Ray shot back.

"All right, that's enough!" Sam said, holding up his hands, "Who do you reckon it is?"

"We were looking over the statements again," Annie said, "and what a lot of the locals were saying is that Azim Khan and Mahmood Chokar were involved in a price war and had been for the last year."

"A price war?" Gene looked at Meg.

"Yeah," she said, "They kept undercutting each other to the point of practically giving the stuff away. So, when Azim realised that he couldn't lower prices anymore, he decided to firebomb Mahmood's shop."

"When Mahmood worked out who it was," Annie continued, "he retaliated and firebombed Azim's shop."

"And what good was any of this supposed to do?" Gene demanded, "They put themselves out of business."

"Well, they probably didn't think about the long term consequences," Meg said, "they hate each other and wanted to inflict as much damage as possible."

"While leading us a merry dance," Sam said.

"Paki bastards," Ray added helpfully.

"Right," Gene said, fury beginning to build, "I want both of 'em in 'ere right now! I'm not 'aving some Paki twats make us look like bloody idiots!" At that moment, the door to CID opened and Phyllis appeared carrying a large basket of flowers. "Well Phyllis, I didn't know you cared."

"They're not for you," she replied, walking over to Meg's desk and setting them down in front of her. Gene immediately looked at Meg who was blushing. "Can you tell 'im that I'm not a flaming delivery service?" With that, she left.

"Who's sending you flowers, Meg?" Chris asked interested.

"Are they from 'im?" Annie asked as Meg lifted the card attached.

"Who's that then?" Gene demanded.

Meg read the card quickly, "They're from Robert."

"Robert?" Gene exclaimed, "Robert Hathaway? That twatty lawyer?"

Meg glared at him, "Yes."

"What's 'e sending you flowers for?"

"Why do you think, Guv?" Ray said, "'E wants back in 'er knickers."

"Shut up!" Gene snapped before turning his gaze back on Meg, "Well?"

"Well what?" she asked.

"What's 'e sending you flowers for?"

"What's it got to do with you who sends me flowers?" she retorted. "Are we going to arrest Azim and Mahmood or what?"

Gene bit back an angry response. He couldn't believe that Robert thought he could just worm his way back into Meg's affections after breaking up with her at Christmas. He hated that smug bastard. The worst thing was, Meg seemed almost pleased. They way she had blushed, the brightness of her eyes when she had glared at him…she couldn't possibly be thinking about taking him back, could she?

Unfortunately, those thoughts had to be put on the back burner while Azim and Mahmood were swiftly arrested and thrown about Lost and Found for a good hour until they both confessed to what they had done. Taking out his anger on someone else was therapeutic for Gene and by the end of it, he felt slightly calmer. That was until he heard that Meg was meeting Robert that night after work. He couldn't let her fall back in love with him, not without her knowing how he felt about her. But how was he supposed to tell her? Blurt it out in the corridor? Try and persuade her to come for dinner with him that evening and thereby circumvent any meeting with Robert? He tossed ideas back and forth with himself all afternoon until he saw Meg get up just after five o'clock and put her coat on.

"Need a lift 'ome?" he asked, catching up with her as she manoeuvred her way out of the room with the flowers.

"No you're all right."

"You'll never get them flowers on the bus."

"I've already got a lift, so it's ok."

He tried to look at her as they walked, but she was obscured by the large blooms, "Look Meg…"

"Can you 'old these while I get me bag from me locker?" She thrust the basket at him and he waited, feeling somewhat of an idiot, in the corridor as she got her belongings from the locker. "Thanks," she took them back from him.

"Your dad coming to pick you up?" he asked, although he knew full well that wouldn't be the case.

"No, 'e'll be down the pub as usual," she replied, "no, I'm…I'm meeting a friend."

"Oh yeah? Who's that then?" They were outside by now and Meg had managed to tuck the basket awkwardly under her arm, so he could at least see her face.

"Just…just a friend."

"Come on," Gene said, sick of playing games, "I know who it is, so you might as well tell me. It's Robert, isn't it?"

Meg stopped and looked at him, "I knew what you'd say if I told you. You didn't exactly take it well when I told you 'e'd sent me the flowers."

"'E's a twat."

"So you've said on more than one occasion."

"'Ow can you even be _thinking _about going back out with 'im?" Gene demanded, "After what 'e did?"

"'E didn't do anything."

"'E dumped you when your Mum got sick."

"It wasn't like that. Besides, he's apologised for that."

"Oh well then, if 'e's apologised…"

Meg stopped and turned to look at him, "Why are you being like this? Don't you want me to be happy?"

"Course."

"Then let me be happy."

"You won't be happy with 'im."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do."

"Look," she started to get impatient, "I don't need you playing at being me dad, all right? Mine might be pretty useless right now but I don't need a substitute."

"Playing at being your dad?" Gene echoed. _Christ, if only she knew the thoughts he had that were certainly not fatherly_. "That's not what I doing."

"That's what it sounds like." She made to move away but he grabbed hold of her arm.

"Don't walk away from me when I'm talking to you!"

She looked at him incredulously, "Let go of me arm, Gene!"

"No, not until you 'ear what I 'ave to say!" It was now or never, he thought. He was going to have to tell her or risk losing her to that idiot forever.

"What the 'ell are you talking about?" Meg tried to wriggle out of his grip.

"You can't start seeing 'im again, Meg, you just can't."

"Since when did you become me jailer?" She demanded, "Like I've said, you're not me dad! I can do what I like!"

"Please, just listen to me…"

"You still 'aven't got over what 'appened in that interrogation 'ave you? You're still holding a grudge like some daft schoolboy!" Meg's fury was palpable.

"No…"

"That's pathetic, Gene, really pathetic!"

Fuelled by anger and jealousy and he didn't know what else, he grabbed both of her arms, causing the basket of flowers to drop onto the ground. "If you won't listen to me, you dozy tart, then I guess I'll just 'ave to show you…" He pulled her roughly to him and kissed her. Weeks of frustration exploded inside of him. Hours of desire overflowed from him. The wanting, the waiting, the aching to touch her, now all came to this one moment. The feel of her against him, of his mouth on hers, was better than he had ever anticipated.

Meg fought him for the first ten seconds, her hands on his shoulders trying to push him away from her as he pulled her closer. Then her body softened, her arms slipped around his neck and she responded to him. The feel of her, her tongue gently flicking against his, her breasts crushed against his chest...He groaned softly against her mouth and thought, for a brief moment of madness, that the car was only a few feet away. If he could just get her over to the bonnet…

The moment was abruptly lost as Meg pulled away from him and staggered backwards. She was breathing heavily, they both were, and looking at him as if she couldn't quite believe what had happened. She couldn't meet Robert now. There was no way she would go now.

"Oh my God," she said, "Oh God, what have you done?"

"What?" he asked, confused.

She lifted the flowers from the ground, "What have you done, Gene?"

"Meg…" But she didn't let him finish. She turned and ran towards the street, leaving him standing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Aren't you guys lucky - another chapter already! Glad you're enjoying it as much as I am writing it! Just a wee point for this chapter, I'm taking it that Gene and Alex have already had that little argument at the car when he said something to her that got everyone wondering...if you don't know what I mean, hopefully you will by the end of this chapter!**

**Manchester – May 1973**

There had been silence in the Cortina for almost ten minutes. A record.

The moment he had got into the car, all reasoned conversation had left Gene. He hadn't been able to think of a single neutral topic to rest on. He had thought about talking about the weather, football, even shopping if he had to, but something had stopped him. He didn't know what it was but, for once, the Gene Genie was speechless.

Meg was faring no better. He had expected her to at least say something, but she too appeared to have been struck dumb by the simple action of getting into his car. It probably didn't help that they hadn't moved from the telephone box since he had picked her up or that they rain was now pounding down onto the car.

After she had run away from him, Gene had been so angry with himself, and the whole situation, that he had stormed back into the station to take it out on whichever poor sod happened to still be there. The unlucky recipient of his wrath had been a poor plonk whom he had yelled at for dropping a cup of coffee. The poor girl had fled in tears. It hadn't made him feel any better. He had gone into his office and slammed the door shut on the pretence of actually doing work. Of course he hadn't done anything except stare at the wall. He cursed himself every single minute for having kissed her. The look of surprise and almost horror on her face when she had pulled back from him replayed in his mind whenever he thought of her. Yet he also couldn't forget those few precious seconds which she had responded. Damn her! Damn her to Hell!

The phone had then rung loudly, causing him to jump.

"Whoever the 'ell you are, piss off!" he had said to the caller.

"It's me." The line was slightly crackly, but he would know her voice anywhere.

"Where are you?" he had asked automatically.

"Phone box at the corner of Spencer Street." He had been there in under ten minutes and found her standing waiting, nervously shifting from foot to foot. He had got out of the car and looked at her across the roof. "You all right?"

"Fine," she had replied.

"Get in then," he had ordered her. They had both gotten back into the car and that was when all speech seemed to leave both of them. He glanced over at her now as she looked out of the obscured windscreen. He could feel nerves coming off of her in waves.

"What 'appened to your flowers?" _Where had that come from?_

Meg turned to face him. "I binned 'em. They were too heavy to carry."

He nodded, "They were nice though."

"Yeah they were."

"Must 'ave cost im a bob or two."

"Must 'ave."

They lapsed into silence again. Gene drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, his brain shouting at his mouth to say something about what had happened, anything to break the awful tension, the awful feeling that they were both sidestepping an issue which needed to be addressed.

"Meg…"

"I know," she interrupted him.

He looked at her, surprised, "You know what?"

"I know that you feel awful about what you did and that you're sorry and that it won't 'appen again. I know," she nodded reassuringly at him, "And it's ok, really it is. I don't mind. I know it was just a moment of madness, that's all. I don't think any less of you for it, really I don't. So you can stop worrying about it."

"Oh." He was slightly taken aback, "Oh…well…thanks. Yeah, it's…it's good that you understand."

"Oh I do," she said, nodding emphatically, "I really do."

"Good." He took a deep breath, "Because you know that I really did mean it, don't you?"

"Absolutely," she replied without skipping a beat.

"That I meant to kiss you. That I wanted to kiss you."

"Yes."

"Right." He paused, "Then why…?"

"Oh God!" Meg put her head in her hands. "Oh God, oh God, oh God…"

"Wasn't that bad, was it?" he asked, with a half-laugh.

"No," she said, her voice muffled, "No, it wasn't bad at all, but…" she sighed heavily and then lifted her head to look at him, "but you know that it can't…it can't 'appen again, don't you? I mean…you're my…and I'm your…"

"Yeah, yeah," he interrupted her, "course I know what you mean, course." He looked out of the window at the rain still pouring down, "It was a stupid idea anyway, you know, you and me…daft."

"Really daft," she echoed softly.

"Really, really daft." He couldn't look at her, couldn't bear to. "Can you imagine what your dad would say?"

She laughed, "'E wouldn't be too 'appy, that's for sure. Probably come after you with a shotgun."

"Yeah," he laughed, "probably would."

"Yeah."

At that moment the radio crackled, "Base to DCI Hunt, come in Guv."

Gene lifted the phone, almost glad of the distraction. "Phyllis? Thought you'd gone 'ome?"

"I was on me way but then this girl came in and said that she wanted to speak to Meg and only Meg."

"Well Meg weren't there when I left," Gene replied impatiently.

"I know that, but I thought she might be with you now."

Gene glanced at Meg who shrugged, "Why would you think that?"

"Never mind, look, the girl's in a right state. She says her name's Sandra Miller and she's been raped…"

"Sandra!" Meg gasped.

"…by 'er 'usband."

"Oh my God," Meg said.

"Tell 'er we'll be right there," Gene said, slamming the receiver down. He switched on the engine and looked over at Meg. Clearly now wasn't the time to try and expand on their previous conversation. Shoving the car in gear, he roared away from the kerb and turned back in the direction of the station.

**London – May 1981**

Alex left Meg's file until last. If anyone asked, she could say that it was because Meg was the final victim and she was doing things in chronological order. Truth be told, it was the file she wanted to take the most time over and it only felt right to have looked at all the others first.

She opened Meg's file and looked at the pictures, before and after, and thought once again how pretty she had been. Cocking her head on one side and looking at the smiling face she thought about how she probably would have pegged Meg as being Gene's type. Pretty and blonde, long legs…it was good to know that she hadn't lost her profiling skills.

She then turned to the statements. They had been taken from everyone at the time. Sam, Annie Cartwright, Ray, Chris…there was one from Ted Ryan and one from Gene which referred to an interview tape. At the back of the file was a small brown envelope which, upon feeling it, led her to believe that a tape was inside. She decided to leave that until last. There were sheets of notes written in what she now knew to be Sam's handwriting. Diagrams, appearing to try and show Meg's last movements. A timeline. A list of people that she knew and who might know what had happened to her, some with crosses next to their names. Clearly they hadn't.

She lifted Meg's birth certificate and looked at it and then noticed the second one tucked behind it. It was newer, or as new as things could have been in 1974. She scanned it and saw that it related to the birth of a little boy on February 27th 1974. Daniel Edward Ryan. The mother was listed as being Megan Frances Ryan. The father's name had been left blank. Alex paused. Meg had had a child. Something else that no-one had thought to mention, especially Gene…

She turned her attention back to Gene's statement and ripped open the envelope containing the tape. Reaching into her drawer, she pulled out a tape recorder and slipped the tape inside. She pressed Play.

_"Taped interview with DCI Gene Hunt. Officers present are DCI William Turnbull and DI Sam Tyler. The time is nine-fourteen am on Sunday 21__st__ March 1974. DCI Hunt, can you state your full name for the tape please?"_

_"Gene Nigel Hunt."_

_"And your date of birth?"_

_"September 12__th__ 1929. _

_"Now, you understand why you're being interviewed today, don't you?"_

_"Course I bloody do. Can we get on with this?"_

_"WDC Megan Ryan went missing on Friday night, that's the 19__th__ March 1973. What can you tell me about it?"_

_"Nothing, I wasn't with her."_

_"All right, let's backtrack a little. What can you tell me about Megan?"_

There was a long pause. _"She's a member of my team and also my goddaughter."_

_"I see. How long has she been a member of your team?"_

_"Nearly six years."_

_"Good officer?"_

_"Very good."_

_"Never given you any cause for concern or complaint?"_

_"No, look what is the point…?"_

_"How would you describe your relationship with Megan?"_

_"I'd appreciate it if you referred to her as WDC Ryan, you arrogant sod."_

_"Why is that Detective Chief Inspector? Is it to try and dehumanise her?"_

_"De-what? _Alex smirked slightly at this.

_"Make her seem less than human. Does that make it easier for you to talk about her?" _Another long pause. _"I'll ask you again, how would you describe your relationship with Megan?"_

_"Very good."_

_"Close?"_

_"Yes."_

_"Intimate?"_

_"I beg your pardon?"_

_"I'm sorry, shall I talk in your parlance, DCI Hunt? It might be easier for you. How long have you been, shall we say, shagging Megan?"_

_"You bastard…"_

_"Guv…"_ Sam's voice, _"this isn't helping."_

_"I'll tell you what's not bloody helping – me being in 'ere being interviewed when I should be out there looking for 'er!"_

_"The sooner you answer my questions, the sooner you can start looking for her. Now, how long have you been intimate with Megan, DCI Hunt?"_

_"About a year, on and off."_

_"On and off?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"I see. And has that…relationship…affected your work, would you say?"_

_"Not at all."_

_"Really?"_

_"We're both professionals and we don't let it get in the way."_

_"But there must be some occasions…"_

_"I said we don't let it get in the way." _Alex could visualise the look in Gene's eyes, the barely restrained fury…

_"Al right, let's move on. This latest investigation. Five murdered women. Was Megan working on that with you?"_

_"Of course."_

_"So she knew about the dangers on the streets? She knew that there was a predator out there attacking, raping and killing young women?"_

_"Yes."_

_"And yet she went out drinking. Does that strike you as odd?"_

_"No, she was a young woman. It was 'er birthday."_

_"Ah yes of course, her birthday. But you, her boyfriend, on and off, for about a year, weren't there celebrating with her, were you?"_

_"No."_

_"Why not?"_

_"It was a girl's night."_

_"I see. She didn't want you there."_

_"I didn't say that…"_

_"Perhaps she was growing embarrassed about the age difference. You are, after all, the same age as her father."_

_"There was no problem with 'ow old either of us were."_

_"But hadn't it caused problems in the past? With Megan's father?"_

_"Yes, but…"_

_"And hadn't Megan recently become quite close again to her father?"_

_"Yes, but that was out of necessity…"_

_"Necessity?_ Another pause. _"So where were you on Friday night?"_

_"At the pub and then at 'ome."_

_"Alone?"_

_"When I got 'ome, yeah."_

_"You and Megan don't live together, do you?"_

_"No."_

_"Not even now? In light of recent…happy events?"_

_"No."_

_"So what do you think has happened to Megan?"_

_"It's bloody obvious! That nutter has snatched 'er and instead of being out there looking, I'm stuck in 'ere answering your stupid bloody questions!" _There was the sound of a chair scraping on the floor and Alex imagined Gene getting to his feet.

_"Sit down Guv," _Sam again.

_"'Ow can you sit there, Sam? You know as well as I do that we need to find Meg!" _There was desperation now.

_"The other women that have been murdered," _Turnbull was so smooth. _"They had various things in common, didn't they?"_

_"Like what?"_

_"All brunettes, for example."_

_"So?"_

_"So…Megan is the only one who's different. She's blonde, she's a police officer…"_

_"This is getting us nowhere!"_

_"She's the only one who's had a child…"_

"Ma'am?" Alex jumped and snapped the tape recorder off. "Jesus, Shaz…" she said, looking up at the younger woman standing in front of her desk. She hadn't realised just how immersed in the interview she had been, "You gave me such a fright…"

"Sorry," Shaz grinned, "Me and the boys are heading down to the wine bar. You want to come?"

"Eh…no, no thanks," Alex said, eager to get back to the tape. "I'll pass this time."

"What are you doing anyway," Shaz craned her neck to look at the papers in front of her, "Megan…was that the Guv's girlfriend?"

"Yes, yes it was and I'd really like to continue trying to work out who killed her, so if you don't mind…"

"Oh, ok," Shaz backed away, "See you tomorrow then, ma'am."

"Yeah bye." Alex waited until Shaz had left the room before rewinding the tape to catch that last bit.

_"…getting us nowhere""_

_"She's the only one who's had a child…" _Alex stopped and rewound it again. _"…the only one who's had a child." _Another long pause. _"Your child, isn't that right, DCI Hunt?"_

"My God," she whispered to herself, stopping the tape again. _"How do you know I don't have children?" _It all made sense and yet, didn't.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the terrific response! I need to clear up the issue of Gene's age which a couple of people have picked up on. Basically, for this story to work, Gene and Ted needed to be the same age and Ted needed to be a decent age to father Meg. Similarly, Meg needed to be of a decent age to start a relationship with Gene (I didn't want him ding donging with her at 16!) So, if Gene's birthday is 12/9/29 and Meg's is 19/3/50 then Gene was 20 1/2 when Meg was born. **

**In 1973, then, Meg is 23 and Gene is 43 going on 44. Unfortunately, yes that would make him 52 in 1981. Obviously, although for the viewer there is literally no time difference between what we see on screen in LoM and what we see in A2A, eight years have gone past. However, when I visualise both my 1973/74 and my 1981, I visualise it as it is on the screen with Phil continuing to look gorge (as I'm sure he still will at 52) so I'm hoping that you can pretty much forget the ages and just visualise as it appeared on screen. I hope that minor point isn't ruining the story for anyone! Hope you'll continue to review!**

**Manchester – May 1973**

Phyllis had helpfully ensconced Sandra in the canteen with a coffee and a pack of cigarettes before going home. When Gene and Meg came across her, she was sitting, visibly shaking, with half the pack finished and the coffee untouched.

"Sandra?" Meg approached her slowly. The other woman turned and relief flooded her features as she saw her friend.

"Meg!" Sandra jumped to her feet and threw herself into Meg's arms, sobbing as she did so. "I'm so glad you're here!"

Gene stood awkwardly as the exchange continued until Meg pulled back and glanced at him. "Sandra, you remember me godfather, DCI Gene Hunt?"

Sandra nodded, wiping her eyes. "Course I do. It were you that took me to 'ospital that night, weren't it?" Gene nodded. "I never did say thank you."

"It was a long time ago," he replied in a low voice.

"You don't mind if DCI Hunt sits in with us, do you?" Meg asked. Sandra shook her head, "Ok then, shall we go somewhere a bit more private?" They made their way out of the canteen and towards Lost and Found. "If you want to go in, Sandra, I'll be there in a minute." She waited until Sandra had walked inside and closed the door behind her. "'Is name's David Miller. 'E's an accountant…"

"Very fancy."

"'E's an accountant at Beckett and Black. Flash git. I never did like 'im. Sleazy type, you know? Always wanting to touch you, put 'is hand on your leg, that kind of thing. I 'ad to fight 'im off on more than one occasion."

"Really?" Gene was liking him less and less.

"I tried to tell 'er about 'im but she wouldn't listen. Don't think I've ever seen anyone as much in love as she was." Meg sighed, "Blinded by it."

"Any kids?"

She shook her head, "No, and Sandra's never told me why." She put her hand on the door handle. "I should 'ave seen this coming." She didn't give him a chance to reply before pushing open the door and walking inside and Gene had no choice but to follow her. Sandra was standing at the far end of the room, smoking another cigarette. "Sit down, Sandra," Meg said encouragingly.

"I'm sorry about all this," Sandra said as she did as she was asked, "Dragging you out 'ere when I suppose you should be 'eading 'ome for the night."

"Don't worry about it," Meg said, "we're more concerned about you right now."

Sandra took another drag on her cigarette, "I don't really know where…"

Gene sat back in his chair, "Just take your time, love, and tell us what 'appened."

"'E came 'ome from work and…I knew that 'e'd 'ad a bad day just by the way 'e came in and slammed the door. Whole 'ouse shook…and 'e came into the kitchen where I was making the dinner and…"she broke off and took another long drag.

"What 'appened then?" Meg asked.

"I tried to ask 'im about 'is day. Not prying like," she added hurriedly, "just…just chit-chat. But he weren't 'aving any of it. Kept going on about people screwing 'im over at work and about 'ow 'e wasn't going to put up with that sort of thing anymore and that 'e'd leave the company if 'e had to." She shook her head, "I don't think 'e really cared that 'e was talking to me. I think I could 'ave been anyone. He just wanted to sound off, you know?" She took a deep breath. "We 'ad dinner and everything was fine and I went upstairs to draw the blinds in the bedroom and 'e came in behind me. Gave me a right fright, so 'e did," she laughed slightly, "then 'e put 'is arms around me and…and…" she glanced self-consciously at Gene.

"Don't worry, love," he reassured her, keeping his expression impassive, "I've 'eard the same and worse before."

Sandra nodded, "'E said 'e wanted to go to bed and I thought he meant, go to sleep, but…then it became obvious what 'e wanted."

"And you didn't?" Meg asked.

"Well…it's me…me you know…" she inclined her head towards Meg who nodded understandingly.

"What?" Gene asked.

"Never mind," Meg said quickly, "and then what 'appened?"

"I tried to explain to 'im but 'e wouldn't listen. Started grabbing me and the next thing I knew…I was on the bed and 'e was…" she broke off as tears began to fall, "I never thought 'e would do that to me, Meg. I just never thought…"

"What did 'e actually do, Sandra," she pressed.

"You know…"

"Did 'e take your clothes off against your will?" Sandra nodded. "Did 'e penetrate you against your will?" Sandra nodded again. "Did you ask 'im to stop?"

"Yes," Sandra said quietly, "I begged 'im to."

"Ok," Meg said getting to her feet, "Is 'e at 'ome right now?"

"No, I reckon 'e'll be down the pub, why?"

"So we know where to find 'im."

Sandra's eyes grew wide, "What are you going to do?"

"Don't worry about it," she said, "Guv?" She gestured to the door. Gene got to his feet.

"But what are you going to do?" Sandra asked again, fearfully.

"Let 'im know 'e can't get away with this," Meg said, "I'll get you a coffee, Sandra. Just sit tight." With that, she headed to the door, Gene closely following her. "I'll kill 'em with me bare hands," she said once they were out of Sandra's earshot. "She's me best friend, Guv, and I'll kill 'im meself."

"Get in line," Gene replied with a sigh, "but aside from beating the crap out of 'im, there's nothing else we can do."

Meg looked at him, "What? You 'eard 'er! He raped her!"

"It's not rape if they're married."

"I beg your pardon?!"

"You know the law as well as I do, Meg," he told her, "and the law is that when a woman gets married she gives up any right to…"

"To what?" she cut across him, "to say no? That's complete shite, Gene, and you know it!"

"Course I know it!" he fought back, "and you don't think I like it, do you? But that's the law!"

"Just because a woman marries a man shouldn't mean that she gives up the right to say no. Just because a woman marries a man, shouldn't mean that 'im pinning 'er down on a bed and forcing 'imself inside 'er isn't rape!"

"You're right, it shouldn't, but it does."

"Since when 'ave you been so interested in the law anyway?" she demanded. "I seem to remember you making it up as you go along in order to get some scumbag off the street! I've 'elped you to do it!"

"Yeah, because I knew we would get somewhere! We won't get anywhere with this. The prosecution service won't raise a case because as far as they're concerned, 'e 'asn't broken any laws!"

"Maybe it's time to make new law then!"

"Maybe it is, Miss Marple, but I don't see you 'aving much success in that department, do you?" She didn't say anything. He stepped closer and put his hands on her shoulders. "Meg, I'm not saying this to 'urt you or 'urt Sandra. I'm saying it to avoid either of you getting 'urt when this hits a brick wall. By all means encourage Sandra to leave the bastard but…"

"But what?"

"Don't get 'er 'opes up about prosecuting 'im because you know it won't 'appen." He touched her cheek gently, "I admire your spirit, I really do…"

"Stop it," she hissed, slapping his hand away, "Don't use this as an excuse to…to pick up where you left off, Gene. This is my friend and she's been the victim of a very serious crime. Forgive me if I'm not listening to me own desires right now." With that, she stormed away in the direction of the canteen.

Gene watched her go and then opened the door of Lost and Found again and stepped back inside. Sandra looked up from where she had clearly been studying the tabletop intently. "Meg's away to get your coffee," he told her.

Sandra smiled, "She's a good friend."

"Yeah she is," he sat down opposite her, "You might not want to let 'er in the same room as your 'usband. She wants blood for this."

Sandra looked worried, "What's going to 'appen? Is David going to be arrested?"

"Is that what you want?" he asked her.

"Well…" she paused, "'E raped me, but…but I'm not sure if I could stand up in court and say that. And what about me Mum and Dad? And 'is Mum and Dad? What are they going to say about all of this?"

"You don't 'ave to take this any further if you don't want to, Sandra," Gene said, "it 'as to be your decision at the end of the day. 'Ave you thought about maybe leaving 'im? Starting again somewhere else?"

She looked terrified. "I've been married to 'im since I was seventeen Mr Hunt. I met 'im not long after I were in 'ospital that time. 'E's the only boyfriend I've ever 'ad and…I've never worked or nothing. I was going to go and train to be a secretary, but…after I got married…I'm not like Meg, you know. She's independent and…determined…"

"She certainly is," he admitted with a wry smile.

"You've always been 'er 'ero, you know."

This took him completely by surprise, "What?"

"All I 'eard about growing up was you being a DCI and putting scumbags in prison. I always reckoned she'd become a copper, even just to let 'er be close to you."

"Eh…" confusion and curiosity fought inside him, "close to me?"

Sandra blushed, "She always did 'ave a bit of a crush on you. But…don't tell 'er I said that, will you?"

Gene was prevented from replying by the door opening and Meg appearing. She was holding a cup of coffee but she didn't bring it over. Instead, she stood at the door, clearly furious. "David's 'ere, Sandra."

Sandra's face fell, "'E is?"

"I can arrest 'im, no problem," Meg said, "and 'e can sit in a cell and think on what 'e's done. And then we can work on getting 'im put away for a very, very long time."

Sandra got to her feet, "I'm not sure…"

Meg stared at her, "You're not sure? Sandra, 'e raped you…'ow can you think about…"

"'E's me life, Meg," Sandra said, "'e's me 'usband and…" she tailed off.

"He _raped _you!"

"Meg," Gene said warningly.

She glared at him, "Shut up!"

"Watch your mouth WDC Ryan!" he shot back immediately. "I think you're beginning to forget yourself!" His feelings for her may have been more than professional, more than merely plutonic, but he wasn't fool enough to let her trample all over him when it came to work.

Some of the anger in her face seemed to dissipate, "Sorry Guv," she said before turning back to Sandra, "Please, Sandra, please think about this."

"I shouldn't 'ave wasted your time, Meg," Sandra said, "I'm sure it were just a one-off. It won't 'appen again, I know it won't."

"You don't know that," Meg said, "They do it once and they think that gives them the right to do it again. I don't want to see you back 'ere for the same thing six months from now. Or worse, in 'ospital where 'e's put you."

"It's my decision," Sandra said, glancing at Gene, "it's got to be my decision, Meg. And I've decided that…I want to just leave it. I'm sorry for coming 'ere and…and taking up your time but…I'd rather just leave it. Please."

"You're making a mistake…"

"Then it's my mistake," Sandra said. She turned to Gene, "Can I go?"

"Course you can, love," he said. "Your 'usband'll be down at the front desk."

"Thank you," Sandra said to him, then she walked over to Meg. "Thanks Meg."

Meg shook her head, "I 'aven't done anything, Sandra. You've nothing to thank me for."

"But I'm thanking you anyway," she said. "You'll 'ave to come round one night for your tea. One night soon, yeah?"

"Yeah," Meg replied unconvincingly, "one night soon." Sandra slipped past her out of the room leaving Gene alone with her. Neither of them said anything for a long moment before Meg threw the cup of coffee she was still holding down onto the ground. "Well," she said, "that was a waste of bloody time." She looked at him, "Thanks for your support, Guv. Really appreciate it."

"Meg…"

"Just leave it," she said, holding up her hands and backing out the door. "Just leave it."

XXXX

He found her in the locker room, twenty minutes later, sat on the bench staring into space. She didn't look up when he walked in. He knew he should bollock her for the way she had spoken to him, but of course he didn't. "You all right?"

"Is that what marriage is?" she asked, ignoring his question, "'aving to put up with…with that? Knowing that the man you love 'as committed a crime against you and yet you 'ave to just…let it go?"

"Not every marriage, so I'm led to believe," he replied, sitting down next to her.

"Do you think me dad ever did that to me mum?"

"Course not! Don't be so bloody stupid!"

"Is it stupid?" she turned to look at him, "I'm sure Sandra didn't think for one minute when she married David that 'e would do that to 'er, that he _could _do that to 'er. She thought she was getting the fairytale. If I 'ad said to 'er that day…that day she put me in that 'ideous bridesmaid's dress… 'oh by the way, in six years time you'll be sitting in front of me, crying, because 'e's raped you' do you think she would 'ave believed me? Does anyone truly know what they're getting into when they marry someone?"

"'Ow the 'ell should I know? Managed to escape the iron chains so far." It was meant as a joke but she didn't laugh.

"I probably 'ad a lucky escape from Robert," she turned away from him, "Who knows what 'e could 'ave done to me? It might 'ave been me sat there, saying 'e'd raped me and then saying I wanted to go back to 'im."

Gene didn't like where this conversation was going, "Not all men are like that twat. David I mean, not Robert." She looked at him, "Not all men would do that to the person they love."

"You never liked Robert."

"We've been through this, Meg…"

"Did you not like 'im because of what 'e did that day in the interrogation?"

"No…"

"Or was it because you could foresee what kind of man 'e might turn out to be if I married 'im?"

"Maybe…"

"Or was it because you wanted me for yourself?"

This last question drew him up short. It had seemed inappropriate to even be thinking about their potential relationship in the face of what had happened to Sandra and he truly hadn't been when Meg had so brutally pulled him up for touching her earlier, but now he was faced with a dilemma. Should he say no, and lie? Or should he say yes, and have her know that he had been wanting her for a lot longer than simply since yesterday? But then, what about what Sandra had said? About Meg always having a crush on him? And hadn't she said that she couldn't be thinking about her own desires? Maybe her own feelings ran deeper than he thought.

"Well?" She was still watching him, waiting for his answer. "Which is it?"

He took a breath, "I didn't like the arrogant sod because of the way 'e came in 'ere and tried to tell me 'ow to do my job. I didn't like 'im because 'e was on the side of that tosser Dennis Campbell who was about to cough before lover boy came striding in and stopped the whole bloody thing. I didn't like 'im because I thought, in general, 'e was a jumped up prick with a rod rammed up 'is arse, but more than any of that…" he paused, "more than any of that, I didn't like 'im because…because yes, I wanted you for meself." There, he had said it, and a great wave of relief swept over him, followed swiftly by another wave of cold, self-doubt at what her reaction might be.

"I see," she said softly. There was a long pause. "Can you take me home?"

He wasn't sure he had heard right, "What? 'Ome?"

"Yes."

"But…don't you want to…I mean…"

"Please," she said, "please just take me home."

"Oh…uh…ok," he replied, cursing himself. He should have kept his mouth closed, kept it to himself. Damn it!

Meg stood up, "Can we go now please?"

He nodded, crestfallen at her clear desperate need to get away from him. Meg followed him out of the locker room, but didn't say another word, despite him silently begging her to. She said nothing as they made their way down the corridor and out into the cool night air. She said nothing as they got into the car and he pulled away. She said nothing as he drove in the direction of her house and began to slow as he reached her gate.

"Keep going," she said then, her voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. At first, he didn't know what she meant, but when he turned to look at her, to ask her, he saw the answer in her eyes.

"Keep going?" he echoed, not daring to believe what he thought she meant. She didn't reply, just looked back at him until he was forced to carry on driving.

She said nothing else as he kept on going until he reached his own flat. She said nothing as she got out of the car and followed him inside. She said nothing as he reached for her in the dark and pulled her to him. She didn't utter one sound until she was in his bed, writhing beneath him, where he had wanted her for so long.

"Was it all right?" she asked him later as they lay together in the dark, her head on his chest.

There were a million phrases he could have used to describe the incredible events of the last hour but somehow all that he managed to come out with was, "Bloody marvellous."

"Good," she said. "Listen, I'm sorry about earlier. I overstepped the mark and…"

"It doesn't matter."

"It _does _matter," she lifted her head to look at him, "I just…the system…the whole thing just makes me sick. The fact that David's probably lying in bed right now thinking that 'e got away with it and about 'ow 'e'll be able to get away with it again and again…" she sighed and put her head back down against him. "And Sandra…I don't understand 'er, I really don't."

"She did the only thing she thought she could do," he said, "she's 'is wife, she doesn't 'ave a job…'e's all she's got."

Meg shuddered, "I can't imagine 'aving to…"

"Well don't try," he said, hugging her tighter.

"You ever tried that with me, you'd get a swift kick in the balls. I hope you know that. Doesn't matter 'ow much I might care about you."

"Oh yeah? 'Ow much do you care about me then?"

"Probably about as much as I reckon you care about me."

No further explanation appeared to be required. "So…'ow do I rate against the wonderful Mr Hathaway?"

Meg lifted her head again, "What?"

"Come on, I can take it. Who's better in bed, 'im or me? Does 'e match the Gene Genie in terms of stamina, speed and attention to detail?"

"Ah."

"Ah? What does that mean?"

"Well…" Meg said, "I never actually…what I mean is, me and Robert never…"

"You never shagged 'im?!" She shook her head. "Does that mean that I'm…?" She nodded. "Bloody 'ell, Meg. Not only 'ave I shagged you, but I've gone and bloody deflowered you and all."

She laughed, "Is that a problem?"

"Well, your dad's going to 'ave to get a bigger shotgun."


	7. Chapter 7

**You guys are lucky I'm on holiday this week as my updates aren't usually this regular! Back to normal next week I'm afraid! Anyway, continue to enjoy :)**

**London – May 1981**

"Six women murdered in Manchester in 1974."

Alex was stood at the front of the room in front of the white board which was adorned with the pictures of six women. She had gathered the team around for a briefing on her thoughts regarding the profile of the killer and where they should go from here. Gene had reluctantly come out of his office and was perched on a desk at the back of the room.

"Victoria Clark was the first." Alex pointed at the first photograph of a pretty brunette. She disappeared on January 1st and her body was found on January 17th. The second was Alison Daley." Another brunette smiled out. "She disappeared on January 12th and her body was discovered January 28th. Agnes Pitt was third. Abducted January 23rd and found February 8th. Then Linda Weatherby. Abducted February 3rd and discovered February 19th. Samantha Hill, abducted February 14th, Valentines Day, and discovered March 1st." She paused and glanced at Gene who kept his eyes on her. "And finally, WDC Megan Ryan. She was abducted on March 19th and her body was discovered on March 26th." Alex pointed to Meg's picture, the one from the file.

There was an audible murmur around the room.

"Now for those of you who have been listening, five out of the six victims follow a pattern. Victoria Clark was found sixteen days after she disappeared. Alison Daley was abducted eleven days after Victoria and five days before Victoria was found. Agnes was abducted eleven days after Alison and five days before Alison was found and so on and so forth." Alex looked at Gene again. "The only difference in this pattern is Megan. She wasn't abducted until eighteen days after Samantha Hill was found and Megan's body turned up after only seven days. Why? Why the difference? There are others too. Megan was the only blonde, she was the only police officer…and she was the only one out of all six women to have had a baby."

Gene shifted restlessly as Ray and Chris both glanced surreptitiously at him. He prayed to God that Alex wasn't going to elaborate on that point.

"Then we move forward eight years to London. Present day." Alex moved to a second white board bearing the pictures of four women. "Angie O'Rourke. Abducted March 26th and discovered April 9th. Laura Hemmings, abducted April 9th and discovered April 15th. Liz Wilson, abducted April 12th and discovered April 20th. Pauline Bennett, abducted April 14th and discovered April 27th." She stopped.

Chris, who appeared to have been following each statement very closely, put his hand up. "There's no pattern."

"There's no _obvious _pattern," Alex agreed. "There's nothing as distinctive in the London murders as there was in the Manchester murders. Angie was discovered on the same day Laura was abducted. Liz and Pauline were both abducted within days of each other and both before Laura was found."

"You said 'is need was increasing," Gene spoke up from the back of the room. Everyone turned to look at him.

"Yes I did."

"'ow come then that there were large gaps between Liz and Pauline being abducted and being found? And 'ow come, no-one else has gone missing since Pauline was found two weeks ago?"

Alex played with the pen in her hand, "I don't know…"

"What _do _you know, Bolly?" he pressed her, "What exactly has this little display told us apart from the fact that one, or maybe two, people quite like nabbing women off the street, raping, killing and dumping them?" He needed this briefing to be over. He couldn't stand Meg's picture on the board, smiling out at him, at everyone.

"I am _trying_ to work out if there any similarities…"

"But there aren't, are there?" He got to his feet and walked to the front of the room. "I'll give you the fact that whoever killed the women in Manchester 'ad a thing for numbers and patterns, that's quite obvious. But there's nothing in what you've said to convince me that the same person who committed those crimes is the same person committing the ones down 'ere."

"If you'll just let me…"

"And that being said…" he started to pull the Manchester pictures down from the board one by one, _Victoria, Alison_, "we don't need…" _Agnes, Linda,_ "these to be up 'ere…" _Samantha_, "Do we?" He paused before pulling Meg's down. "Do we?" He looked hard at her.

"I haven't finished with those," Alex said, meeting his stare with one equally as powerful. She held out her hand, "I'm still working on my profile."

"Ah yes, your profile," he mocked her, "what exactly _is _your profile? What 'as looking at all of this told you?"

"As you said, the killer was methodical, numerate. Perhaps he has an obsession with patterns. The way he spaced out evenly his abductions and his kills…all except Meg's of course."

"And what about the eight year gap? What about the fact that he chose a different city? What about the fact that there's no nice, neat spacing involved in these murders, Bolly? Answer me that."

"I told you, it's a work in progress."

Gene shook his head, "No it's isn't. And the more time you spend looking over these, need I remind you, _closed_, files, the longer we let the killer of _these_ women," he pointed to the 1981 board, "run free."

"You just can't bear to think about it, can you?" she said angrily, "you're so full of self-loathing about the whole thing that you'd rather let whoever killed _those _women," she pointed to the photographs in his head, "remain free. You can't stand the fact that you didn't catch whoever did it yourself, so you'd rather just keep the files closed and not have to think about it. Not have to think about her!"

"Watch yourself, Bolly," he said quietly, well aware that the rest of the room was watching the exchange transfixed.

"How can you not want to know?" she asked, her voice equally low. "Don't you want to be able to tell your son the truth about what happened to his mother?"

Gene didn't reply. He didn't know what to say to the question. The truth was, no he didn't. He didn't want to have to look his son in the face and tell him what a shit copper and an even shittier father he was. It was a wound he had worked hard at keeping closed and was unwilling to open now.

"Let it go," he said before turning and walking back into his office, closing the door behind him.

Alex turned to the assembled team who were still watching, open-mouthed. "Well," she said, "that was enlightening for you all, I'm sure. Now, where are we with things? Chris?"

"Well…" he said, "I was going through the statements and something jumped out at me."

"What?"

"Angie, Laura and Liz all went to bingo at the same place every Tuesday night. They'd all been there the week they disappeared."

"That's good," Alex said, seizing on the connection, "what about Pauline?"

He shook his head, "I looked but…"

"No, no, that's a good start. Get down the bingo hall, speak to whoever you can and see if anyone saw anyone acting suspiciously around the women the night they were last there. That's really good work, Chris." Chris grinned at Shaz who was sitting listening from her desk. "Ray, what about the people in the pubs where the women were drinking?"

"It's been a bit difficult getting people to come forward," Ray replied. "You know, married blokes and stuff."

Alex rolled her eyes, "Speak to the landlords, the bar staff, see if anyone saw anything suspicious the night they disappeared."

"We've done all that," he complained, "we got nothing."

"Well do it again!" she pressed him, glancing through the glass door where Gene was pouring himself a drink. "And while you're at it, make sure you look out for any connections between the murders here and the ones in Manchester."

"You still reckon there's a link, ma'am?" Chris asked.

"There are too many similarities in the abductions and the way the women were murdered for there not to be, Chris. I don't care what DCI Hunt says."

"Right-o."

Alex waited until the others were all going about their tasks before knocking softly at the office door and letting herself in. The photographs of the murdered Manchester women were spread out on Gene's desk.

"Victoria Clark and Alison Daley were secretaries. Both nice girls. Both came from good families. I had to tell their parents that we'd found their daughters' bodies. I 'ad to take them to the morgue to see 'em lying on the slab. Agnes Pitt lived in a childrens' home. No real tears shed for 'er. Linda Weatherby was supposed to be getting married two weeks after she disappeared. 'er parents never liked 'er fiancé and they reckoned it was 'im what 'ad done it. 'e 'adn't, of course. Never seen a bloke cry like 'e did. Samantha Hill was going to college to train to be a nurse." He looked up at her, "I 'aven't forgotten a single thing about any of these women, Bolly. I think about 'em a lot, so don't you _dare _accuse me of not caring."

"That's not what I said," Alex replied.

"It's what you meant."

She sat down in the chair opposite, "Why didn't you tell me that you and Meg had a child?"

Gene sighed. He didn't want to get into this with her, he really didn't. But she was like a dog with a bone and he knew that if he didn't at least try to explain, she would get some warped story from another source. "'ow did you know?"

"I listened to your interview tape."

"Load of crap that was," he said dismissively, "waste of bloody time. Maybe if I 'adn't 'ad to sit there listening to Turnbull drone on and on we might 'ave found Meg in time." There. He had said her name and it hadn't made him double over with pain. Was that good or bad?

"DCI Turnbull was drafted in after she disappeared?"

Gene nodded, "On Ted's request. 'e didn't think I could 'andle things and 'e wanted the best to try and find 'is daughter. I suppose I can understand that. Turnbull was meant to be the best."

"Ted didn't approve then? Of your relationship with Meg?"

"Didn't approve?" Gene snorted, "'e'd 'ave liked nothing more than to kill and bury me 'imself. Didn't think Meg was capable of making a choice for 'erself. Didn't want 'er choosing me." He paused, thinking back. "I didn't want 'er to 'ave the baby in the first place."

"Why not?"

"I thought she was too young to get 'erself saddled with a child," he lied.

Alex saw right through this. "That's not the truth, is it?"

She was too good. "It was true," he said, "but…I suppose I wasn't ready meself. It all 'appened very quickly you know. We'd only been going at it a few months before she got 'erself up the duff."

"_She _got _herself _up the duff?"

"Well, all right, I 'elped." Alex stared at him. "All right, _I _got 'er up the duff," he said finally. "And then it all got very complicated. We fell out and split up. Then she almost lost the baby and we got back together. Then Ted waded in with 'is size elevens and screwed everything up again. Then there was the fire and I thought I'd lost 'er and it was all back on again…" his mind raced back over the sequence of events, "and then Ted wanted to move to Scotland and take Meg with 'im and it was all off again and then…" he paused, "by the time the baby came I reckon we were all so confused none of us knew what was 'appening. Plus the fact that me back seat never recovered."

Alex smiled. "So, you have a son."

"Yeah. 'e's seven now."

"But, what I don't understand," Alex said, sitting forwards, "is that I've never heard you mention him. I've never seen you have to leave to pick him up from school. You practically live at Luigi's…"

"That's cause I don't 'ave 'im."

"Don't have him?" Gene shook his head. Here it came. Worst Father of the Year award. "I don't…"

"Ted 'as 'im up in Manchester."

"Ted? Borderline alcoholic Ted from what I've heard?"

"'e got 'imself on the wagon before Daniel was born and then afterwards…"

"But he's your son."

"Kid's got a good life up there. 'e goes to school, 'e's got lots of friends…"

"But he's _your _son!"

"Look, Bolly, when Meg disappeared, all I cared about was trying to find out what 'appened to 'er and then…who killed 'er. It was all I could think about. I was at the station day and night, sleeping in me office, living on coffee and fags, forcing everyone else to do the same…Ted stepped right in and took care of Daniel. 'e knew exactly what to do, being a father 'imself. Daniel wasn't even a month old and I didn't know nothing about babies. Still don't. Meg was breastfeeding and I wouldn't 'ave 'ad a clue 'ow to get over that. I'd never changed a nappy in me life!" He didn't like the look on her face. "Over time, as the case got cold and the leads dried up and everyone forgot about Meg and the others…it just seemed easier to let the boy stay where 'e was. Don't reckon I could have prised 'im away from Ted even if I'd wanted to." Alex was staring at him incredulously, the same way that everyone who knew that he had a son that he had let stay with his grandfather did. They all thought he didn't feel it. That he didn't care. "I know that you probably don't understand that…"

"I could never let anyone else raise my daughter."

"It's not just anyone. It's Meg's dad, not a total stranger."

"It doesn't make any difference, Gene!" she exclaimed, "Daniel's _your _son! He should be with you!" She paused, "Does he even know that you're his father?"

"Of course 'e does!" Gene shot back, hurt at the thought that he would ever let Daniel think he didn't have a father. "I talk to 'im on the phone, I send 'im money…"

"Oh, big deal."

He fidgeted with the photographs. "It works for us."

"Do you ever see him? Does he ever come down to London to visit you? Do you ever do anything with him?"

"It's difficult…"

"No, it's obviously very easy!" She was furious now. "You have a son that you can't even be bothered with, that you would willingly move hundreds of miles away from, and I have a daughter that I am trying desperately to get back to…"

"Well I'm not stopping you!" he shouted back. "You'd be doing me a bloody favour if you _did _piss off back to 'er!"

"How can you be happy missing out on everything with him?" Gene looked away. "First words, first steps, first day at school…" she shook her head, "Meg would be ashamed of you."

In his head, he had been thinking _just let her rant, let her get it off of her chest and then it'll be over with_, but her last statement drew him up short. Those six words struck deep. A sharp blow. "What did you say?"

"I said that she would be ashamed of you," Alex repeated, unperturbed. "She bears you a son and you ship him off to live with good old Ted while you just carry on regardless? Phoning a few times and slipping him a few quid? Is that your idea of fatherhood, Gene?"

"Carry on regardless?" his voice quivered slightly, "Is that what you think I do, Alex? Carry on regardless? Do you think that I don't think about 'er? Do you think that I don't think about me son? Do you honestly think for _one minute_ that I wouldn't do things differently if I 'ad the chance to go back?" She didn't reply. "You didn't know Meg. You don't know anything about 'er except what you've read in 'er file, so you don't you _dare_ make out that you know what she would or would not think about me! You weren't there when I 'ad to make those choices! I 'ad a baby that I didn't know what to do with and I took the help that was offered to me! You have _no right_ to tell me that what I did was right or wrong!" He was shaking now. "And as for your earlier question as to wanting to be able to tell Daniel what 'appened to 'is mother, of course I do, but I can't. I can't because I don't know and because every time I look in 'is face I see 'er and it hurts, Alex. It _hurts._"

Alex had the good grace to look a little contrite, "I'm sorry."

"What I said to Ted that night at Luigi's was right," he continued, "I _loved _her. And what 'e said was right too. I let 'er down. I didn't protect 'er. Now you and Ted might think I've shirked me responsibilities by giving Daniel up but I did it to _protect _'im. I did it to give 'im a better life. A life I knew I couldn't give 'im." He paused, "Look at me, Alex. What kind of father would I be?"

She chose her words carefully, "I think a better one than you give yourself credit for."

"Yeah well…" he looked back down at the photos and slowly swept them up into one pile. "This is what I'm good at. And you," he held them out to her, "If you think you can work out a connection, Bolly, by all means do it. If you think you can find the killer or killers of all these women then do it. Maybe one day _you _can look me son in the face and tell 'im what 'appened to 'is mother."

She took the photos from him, "Maybe we can do it together."

He nodded and watched as she got up and left the office. As the door clicked behind her, he dug the heels of his hands into his eyes until spots danced in front of them. The only other person who had accused him of being a lousy father was Ted and he had taken the criticism from Ted because he felt it was deserved. Ted's daughter was dead and he, Gene Hunt, hadn't been able to do a blind thing to stop it. The least he could do was try and protect Meg's son and, in doing so, give Ted back a little of what he had lost.

He glanced at the clock. Four-forty-five. Daniel should be home from school. He lifted the phone and dialled Ted's number in Manchester. It rang out five or six times before Ted answered it.

"Hello?"

"It's me."

"Have you found something?"

"No," Gene said, deflated by the expectation in Ted's voice, "we're still working on it." He paused, "Is Daniel there?"

It was Ted's turn to pause, "'e's playing outside."

"Right."

"'e's got some mates from school over," Ted continued, "now's not really…"

"No, no, I understand. Just…erm…just tell 'im I called to say hi."

"All right."

"'ow…'ow is 'e?"

"'e's all right. I've got to go, Gene, there's someone at the door."

"Oh, ok."

"You call me the minute you 'ear anything, understand?"

"Yes, of course." The next thing he heard was the dial tone. Slowly, he replaced the receiver in its cradle and sat staring at it. Then he opened his desk drawer and looked in at Meg's picture. "I 'ope you're not ashamed of me," he said to it, "I 'ope you understand why." Then he closed it, lifted his jacket, took a deep breath and headed out to round up troops for the wine bar. He had an image to uphold.


	8. Chapter 8

**Well, I go back to work tomorrow so probably won't be able to update for a few days. Enjoy this extra long chapter!!**

**Manchester – May 1973**

"You will never guess what 'appened to me this morning."

The sound of Meg's voice roused Gene from where he had been about to fall quite contentedly asleep. "What?" he asked sleepily, hugging her tighter to him. It had been another evening of sheer bliss preceded by yet another day of long lingering looks across the office, brushing against each other at every opportunity, stolen kisses with the added thrill of someone catching them and then, later, the grand finale.

"Well I were coming into work this morning when that slightly odd bloke from uniform – PC Wallace – 'e stopped me and 'e asked me out on a date."

"'e did what?" Gene echoed, wide awake now.

"Asked me out on a date," she repeated. "Wanted to know if I fancied going to a special screening of _A Clockwork Orange _tonight_._"

"Oh yeah and what did you say?"

"Well I were a bit taken aback at first, but once I'd got over me shock I thanked 'im very much for the offer but said that I 'ad other plans."

"What did 'e say?"

"'e just kind of gave me a funny look and ran off. I saw 'im two or three times during the day and 'e just kept giving me the same funny look. Reckon I 'urt 'is feelings, poor sod."

"Twonk more like," Gene said, "as if 'e, in 'is wildest dreams, would 'ave any chance with you."

Meg laughed, "Especially not when I've got me very own Gene Genie." She lifted her head and kissed him. He responded to her, rolling her over onto her back, settling himself between her thighs, "Someone's very keen," she observed as he slipped inside her. Nothing further was said for the next ten minutes as he moved above her, kissing her mouth, her chin, her throat, revelling in the feeling of her nails digging into his back, the look of pleasure on her face, pleasure he was giving her. The Gene Genie still had it! He would have shouted "Come on!" if he hadn't thought she would be offended.

They lay together after it was over until he was almost asleep again, when he sensed Meg move away from him and the bedsprings creak. Opening his eyes he could see, in the faint light coming from the streetlights outside, her sat on the side of the bed, putting on her clothes.

"Where do you think you're going?" he asked her.

"'ome," she said, glancing over her shoulder, "It's getting late."

He looked at the clock and saw that it was after ten o'clock. Pulling himself up, he crawled across the bed towards her and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her back against him. Tonight, unlike every other night, he wasn't willing to let her go. "Stay the night," he said.

"I can't," she replied, "I told me dad I was going to the pictures. 'e may be living his life in a bottle right now but 'e's not stupid enough to think they last all night." Wriggling out of his embrace, she stood up and zipped up her skirt, "Besides, some of us are still young enough to need our beauty sleep." With a frustrated sigh, he flopped back down onto his back. "Oh come on, don't sulk," Meg said, "What else do you expect me to do?"

"Stay the bloody night! Feels like I'm paying for it this way!"

"Well thanks very bloody much!" she retorted, "Nice to know that you put me on a par with every prozzie you've ever shagged. Do I get marks out of ten for me performance?"

"Seeing as I've 'ad to teach you everything you know, what with you being a sodding virgin, no you bloody don't!" he responded pettily.

"Well there wasn't much to teach was there? There's really only a choice of two things to do when you've got a sweaty bastard on top of you. Knee 'im in the balls or open your legs! Forgive me for 'aving chosen the latter!" She thrust her feet into her shoes and marched to the bedroom door. "I'll take it that the drink you bought me in the Railway Arms earlier was payment in advance, shall I?" With that, she threw the door open, stormed out and slammed it behind her.

"Shit," Gene groaned. Getting out of bed, he pulled on his vest and pants and followed her out, "Meg! Don't be such a stupid tart!"

She turned from where she was standing at the front door, "I thought that's what I was, Gene, a tart!"

"That's not what I bloody meant and you know it!"

"I thought this would be ideal for you. A shag and then the bird goes 'ome. No expectations, no commitment…and now all of a sudden you're going all 'stay the night' on me? Bloody 'ell maybe I should have taken PC Wallace up on 'is offer of the pictures after all!"

"Maybe you bloody should!" He snapped back at her.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

"Right…well…" Meg paused, her hand on the doorknob, "I'll be going then."

_Tell her to stay, tell her you're sorry…_ "Ok." _You twat._

"Fine," she said again. After a pause, she opened the door, stepped outside and let it swing shut behind her.

Gene stood in the hallway after she had left feeling like an idiot. There he was, forty-three years of age, in his vest and pants with an ever expanding beer gut, letting her walk away from him. Dozy cow that she was. Ted would be too bloody drunk to even notice what time she got home. He slammed his fist against the door and then wandered back into the bedroom, his eyes straying immediately to the crumpled sheets. It wasn't totally about sex. Not that he didn't love doing it with her, mind. There was something very satisfying about hearing her cry out his name. But it was more than that. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt this way about a woman. Perhaps he never had. Perhaps Meg was the first. She was certainly the first woman he would have been happy waking up with the morning after.

He lit a cigarette and sat on the edge of the bed thinking. God, she was infuriating! She'd probably only told him that story about PC bloody Wallace to wind him up and try to make him jealous. It had bloody worked too. The thought of that pasty faced bugger going anywhere near her made his skin crawl. He couldn't work her out sometimes. What did she want from him? It wasn't as if he was about to go down on bended knee to her, but he liked having her around, liked being with her, loved shagging her, wanted her to spend the night. At times, he thought she wanted that too, but then she would back away from him with endless protestations about how awful it would be if her dad found out. Gene was under no illusions. Ted would go mental if he knew he was shagging Meg, but somehow, as time went on, that bothered him less and less.

He finished his cigarette and got properly dressed. He would go over to her house, on the pretext that he wanted to talk to her about work, and would apologise to her. He wanted to make her happy and if that meant no overnights then he would accept that. It was a small price to pay to keep her in his life.

XXXX

It was almost eleven by the time he reached the house. The lights were still on in the living room and as he made his way up the path, Gene could hear the strains of the television. He knocked twice and waited. The noise stopped and through the frosted glass, he could see a figure approaching the door. It was Ted and the smell of whisky hit Gene straight away, but the other man didn't appear to be excessively drunk.

"All right Gene!" he exclaimed, "'ow are you? Come in!" He stepped back and held the door wider.

"Thanks." Gene stepped inside, realising it was the first time he had been back in the house since the day of Catherine's funeral. Not much had changed. It was a little messier than when she had been around and he could see there was a thin film of dust on the hall table. He knew that Meg did her best to keep the house ticking over, but with a full time job, it wasn't always easy. He followed Ted into the living room.

"Fancy a drink?"

"Why not?" Ted poured him a generous measure and held it out to him. "Thanks." He took the whisky from Ted and then sat down on the sofa, "So…" he said, trying to gauge whether or not Meg was in earshot, "'ow 'ave you been?"

"So-so," Ted replied, "you know 'ow it is. I miss 'er, Gene."

"I know you do."

"I 'oped it would get easier, but it 'asn't so far." His eyes strayed to the picture of Catherine on the mantelpiece, "She was the love of me life. I wake up in the morning and I still think for a moment that she's 'ere. In the bathroom or…downstairs…" he trailed off and took a drink.

Gene shifted uneasily. He felt guilty that he hadn't spent as much time with his friend as he perhaps should of in the wake of his wife's death. Indeed, he hadn't spent any time with him in the last few weeks, not since his brain had become saturated with Meg. "I'm sure she's…looking down on you." _Christ what a pathetic thing to say._

"Yes," Ted said, "I'm sure she is." He smiled, "And at least I've always got Meg. Spitting image of 'er mother. Couldn't manage without 'er."

"Speaking of Meg," Gene was glad he hadn't had to bring her up himself, "is she 'ere?"

Ted shook his head, "She got back about an 'our ago and not long after that she got a call from one of 'er friends, oh what's 'er name…Sandra, I think."

"Sandra Miller?"

"That's it," Ted said, "the girl that you 'ad to take to 'ospital that night," he giggled, "Anyway, she went straight out after that. Let 'er borrow the car and all."

"To Sandra's?" Ted nodded, "Did she say why?"

"She mumbled something about Sandra 'aving a fight with 'er 'usband, which quite frankly I don't think Meg should be getting involved with but…you just got 'ere!" he protested as Gene got to his feet.

"I know, sorry Ted. Listen, I've got to go. Thanks for the drink." Gene put the glass down noisily on the side table and made for the door.

"Well, thanks for dropping by," Ted said.

"No problem," Gene said, pausing. "We should meet up more often, mate."

"Yeah we should," Ted agreed, "I'm in the Dog and Parrott most evenings if you fancy one or two…or three or four," he laughed.

"I'll take you up on that," Gene said before opening the door and hurrying back to his car. He didn't like the sound of Meg wading in on a fight between Sandra and David. He didn't like it one bit.

XXXX

The front door of Sandra's house was open and when he approached it, Gene could hear voices. At first, he couldn't make out anyone in particular. Then he heard Meg, clear as a bell.

"Come any closer, David, and I'll deck you meself. I mean it!"

"Get out of me way you bloody slag!"

Then there was a scream and that was all Gene needed. He pushed open the door and stormed inside, following the noise to the living room. Meg was standing at the fireplace, Sandra behind her, the other woman clearly showing the signs of an earlier beating. A man, he presumed to be David, was towering menacingly in front of them. "What the bloody 'ell's going on 'ere?!"

Meg looked over at the sound of his voice and he saw relief flood her face.

"Who the 'ell are you?" David demanded, turning to face the intruder. "Get the 'ell out of my 'ouse!"

"DCI Gene Hunt, Manchester Police," he flashed his badge, "and I'll be quite 'appy to get out of your house Mr Miller, but I'm taking both these ladies with me."

"Well you can take this slag!" David replied, grabbing Meg's arm, "But my wife stays!" Meg responded with a swift right hook which took even Gene by surprise. Momentarily stunned, David responded with a sharp slap to the side of her head which sent her crashing into the mantelpiece and caused her to smack her head off of the mirror above it.

"No!" Sandra screamed, "David, stop!"

The very action was enough to make Gene see red. He lunged at David, grabbing him by the back of his shirt and trying to force him to the floor. David, being younger and more lithe however, managed to grab hold of Gene's leg and catch him off balance, causing both of them to fall in a heap on the floor. Before Gene could react, David punched him hard in the face, followed swiftly by another to the stomach. As he lay winded, all he could hear was the sound of Sandra screaming.

"You bloody useless slag!" David shouted, getting to his feet.

"Get off 'er!" he heard Meg shout and then the sound of breaking glass.

"You bitch!"

Recovering enough to roll over onto his side, Gene saw that David had his wife by the hair and was attempting to drag her to the living room door. Meg, who had obviously been thrown onto the ground herself, was getting to her feet. She ran at David and tried to force her way between him and Sandra. "I said, leave 'er alone!"

"Tart!" David shoved Meg hard and she fell backwards again. By this time, Gene had managed to get back on his feet and he lunged at David once again, gripping him around the neck and forcing him to let go of Sandra. They both staggered back, David choking under the pressure.

"Meg!" Gene shouted. "Meg, get the bloody cuffs!" He felt, rather than saw, Meg grab the handcuffs that were clipped to his waistband. David's hands were grappling with his own, trying to free himself. He then delivered a sharp elbow to Gene's chest, causing him to loosen his grip enough so that David could wriggle free. He turned, as if to strike again, when all of a sudden, Sandra brought a statue down on his head. David toppled for a brief moment before falling onto his knees and then onto his face on the ground. For a moment, no-one spoke, and the only sound that could be heard was heavy breathing. "Everyone all right?" Gene asked. Sandra, who was still standing holding the statue and shaking violently, nodded slightly. "Meg?"

"I'm ok." She was standing slightly behind him, still holding the handcuffs.

"Is 'e…?" Sandra asked, shakily, "Is 'e…?"

Gene knelt down and felt for a pulse, "'e's alive. Sandra, call an ambulance. Meg, cuff 'im." Sandra dropped the statue and hurried out into the hallway. Meg got onto her knees and crawled to where David was lying. She prised his arms out from under him and cuffed him behind his back. Then she sat with her back against the sofa, breathing heavily.

"Your face…" Gene said, reaching into his pocket for his handkerchief. She had a nasty cut to the side of her face from where she had hit the mirror. Glancing up, he saw that it was completely smashed.

"I'm fine," she said, swatting him away. He sat back beside her. "You?"

"Fine."

'ow did you know where I was?"

"Went round to your 'ouse."

"What for?"

"To apologise."

"Really?" she looked at him as if he was crazy. "Gene Hunt saying sorry? I think that knock to the 'ead must have damaged me 'earing."

"I 'avent' said it yet." She waited. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't 'ave called you a tart, or made you feel like a tart."

"Thank you," she said, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't 'ave said what I did. You know there's no way in a million years that I would 'ave gone out with PC Wallace."

"I should bloody 'ope not!" He took her hand in his. "First fight, eh?"

"First of many no doubt." She paused. "I reckon we should tell me dad. 'e's going to find out sooner or later. It's probably better coming from me. From us. And I'm not sure I can stand the sneaking about any more." Gene was about to respond when Sandra came back into the living room.

"The ambulance should be 'ere in five minutes." She glanced nervously at the prostrate body of her husband. "I can't believe this 'as 'appened."

"Well, Sandra," Meg said, getting to her feet. "If you don't press charges for this, then I bloody will! 'e assaults you, 'e assaults me and 'e assaults Gene. I'm not letting 'im get away with it, even if you will."

"You're right," Sandra said, "I know you're right. But it's just…"

"You can come and stay with me and me dad," Meg continued, "We could even try and get a place together! I was thinking about moving out." She looked over her shoulder at Gene who was still sitting on the floor. "Would make a lot of things a lot easier."

"I don't…"

"Come 'ome with me tonight at least," Meg pressed. "You can't stay 'ere."

"Shouldn't I go to the 'ospital?" Sandra asked as the sound of sirens began to draw closer.

"No you bloody shouldn't! Let 'im think on what 'e's done for a change." Meg slipped her arm around her friend's shoulder, "Come on, I've got me dad's car. I'll take us back there now."

"'ow you going to explain your face to your dad?" Gene asked, standing up.

"I'll tell 'im I was doing me job," she replied, grinning at him. She walked Sandra to the door. "'ere," she gave her the keys, "I'll be there in a minute." She waited until Sandra was out of earshot and the ambulance men were in the living room attending to David. "Aren't you proud of me?" She asked, tossing them the keys for the handcuffs.

_God, he loved her. He loved the fact that she had come here to help her friend without any consideration for her own safety. But it also scared the shit out of him and she needed to know it. _"No, I'm bloody not!" Her face fell. "You could 'ave been bloody killed, Megan. If I 'adn't shown up when I did…"

"I'd 'ave managed!"

"'e'd 'ave bloody killed the pair of you!" he glared at her. "When you got that call from Sandra, you should 'ave called me. We could 'ave come 'ere together and prevented this!"

"Gene…"

"I can't 'ave people on my team who go about thinking they can do everything themselves! If you want to be some sort of one woman army, do it on someone else's time, do you understand?"

"Is this me official bollocking, Guv?"

"Do you bloody well understand?!" The ambulance men who were taking David out on the stretcher looked at them both oddly.

"Yes, Guv," Meg replied quietly.

"Good." He kissed her swiftly, "get yourself 'ome, right now." He watched as she hurried down the steps and got into the car where Sandra was waiting. He waited as she reversed out of the driveway onto the street and then headed in the direction of her house. He shook his head. She was too reckless for her own good that one.

**London – May 1981**

"Ma'am…" Shaz sidled over to Alex's desk and hovered nervously in front of it.

"What is it?" Alex asked, never lifting her head. She was determined to work this out, solve this puzzle. Maybe that's why she was here.

"Well, I was thinking about the women and if they had anything in common…"

"And?"

"Well, I know Chris thought about the bingo thing, which was really clever of him, I thought. He's such a clever bloke, really he is…"

"Shaz?"

"Sorry," she said, blushing, "well, the bingo thing only worked for four of them, but I thought about something that matched all five." She grinned.

"What is it?" Alex asked impatiently.

"Well, it was only after I saw the police report for the missing bracelet that it suddenly dawned on me and then I checked back through the records for the last few months and I found it all matched!"

"What did?" Alex asked, digging her nails into her arm to prevent herself from either screaming or striking Shaz.

"They all came into the station before they died to report thefts." Shaz grinned triumphantly.

"What?"

"Angie, Laura, Liz and Pauline. They all came into the station before they died to report thefts."

Alex got slowly to her feet, "They were all here?" Shaz nodded, "How soon before they disappeared?"

"Well," Shaz scuttled over to her desk and lifted a sheaf of papers, "If you just let me check…"

Alex hurried over and grabbed them from her. Skimming them, she saw that all four women had been into the station a matter of days before they disappeared to report thefts. Angie O'Rourke had lost her purse, Laura Hemmings, a bracelet, Liz White, also her purse and Pauline Bennett a…she squinted, unable to make it out. "What does that say?" she asked Shaz, passing her the report back.

"Watch. I know, it don't look like it."

"Handwriting's appalling…"

Shaz giggled, "He's got the worst handwriting out of the lot of us has Derek."

"Derek?" Alex asked, absent-mindedly as she flicked back through the other reports.

"PC Wallace," Shaz confirmed. "It was him that took all the reports."

Alex paused and looked up, "The same officer saw all four women?" Shaz nodded. "I need to speak to him, Shaz, right now! He might have seen something, or remembered something from when they were here. This could be it!" She said excitedly, "This could be part of our link!"

XXXX

"All four women came into the station to report thefts of small items a few days before each of them disappeared." Alex relayed the findings to Gene. "They were all seen by the same uniformed officer. Now, I tried to speak to him but he called in sick today so I'll try tomorrow but it's a _link!_" She leaned back, excitedly, "It's a _link!_"

"Yes thank you Bolly," he replied, "I got it the first time."

"Someone could have seen the women coming and going from here. Whoever it was might have targeted them because of it."

"Doesn't exactly narrow the suspect pool, does it?" Gene said, tossing the papers back at her, "Anyone could 'ave been in 'ere when they came in to report these."

"They all came in on different days, so it would have to be someone who was here on a regular basis. I've got Chris checking all the custody records for those weeks to see if any names crop up more than once."

"Thefts…" Gene mused, his brain working overtime, thinking back, "Alison Daley…I'm sure there was something 'er mother said about 'er getting 'er bag stolen the week before she went missing."

Alex sat forward, "Did she report it?"

"Can't remember. If she did, it would be in the old files."

"It isn't. I've been through them with a fine toothcomb. I would remember." She paused, "What about Meg?"

"What about 'er?"

"Did she have anything stolen before she disappeared?"

Gene thought back, but all he could remember about that time was a screaming baby. His screaming baby. "No," he said, "at least if she did, she didn't tell me."

Alex scratched her head, "I'm convinced there's something in this."

"Perhaps there's a link between the four women killed down 'ere with this theft thing," he said, "but it still doesn't prove any link between 'ere and Manchester."

"I know," Alex sighed, "but it's a start. I'll know more once I've spoken to PC Wallace tomorrow." She got to her feet.

"PC Wallace?" Gene echoed.

"Yes, why?"

The name was familiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. "I think we 'ad a PC Wallace up in Manchester. Yeah, we did. 'e asked Meg out on a date once, stupid bugger."

"It's quite a common name."

"Yeah," he said, dismissing it, "yeah it is."

"Just out of curiosity though, I'll check his service record. If it is the same guy, then maybe he might remember something about the Manchester murders."

"You do that, Bolly, and let me know what you find." She nodded. "Coming to Luigi's later?"

"Uh…perhaps," she said. "It's been a long day…"

"Would be good to talk about things in more…pleasant surroundings."

"Talk about things?"

"Yeah, you know," he looked down, "about Meg and stuff." For some reason, he felt comfortable saying her name in front of Alex. He almost felt comfortable talking about the past.

"Of course," Alex said, surprised by this, "any time you want to talk about her…"

"Well…" he cut across her, "maybe later then."

"Maybe later," she echoed, before leaving the office.

Gen watched her go, once again admiring the prime view he had of her bottom. She was the first woman in eight years to make his loins stir the way they did. The first woman in eight years he felt he might, just might, be able to talk to properly about the past. The first woman in eight years he could picture himself being with.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sorry for the wait guys, hope it's worth it!!**

**Manchester – June 1973 **

"One of your WDC's is pregnant."

Gene looked up from where he had been doodling on the back of an envelope into the rather austere face of the police doctor, Michael Blair, who was standing in front of his desk holding a number of files. "What?"

It had been time for the annual fitness checks which routinely consisted of spending time with Dr Blair in a cold room in the station, half-naked, coughing. Gene hated it with a passion and had, for the last two years, managed to get out of it. This year, however, he had faced the same indignation as everyone else and had joined in the usual massive drink-athon afterwards, designed to foster silent solidarity and numb the pain and embarrassment they had all had to suffer.

"I said," Dr Blair repeated, "that one of your WDC's is pregnant." He waved the files. "Everyone else turned out fine. You, of course, could do with losing some weight and cutting down on the cigarettes, but I seem to be telling you that every year and you never seem to take a blind bit of notice of what I say." He sighed, "And I must say that DI Tyler appears to be in incredibly good shape. Puts the rest of you to shame to be quite honest."

"Who's pregnant?" Gene demanded. He knew it! Tyler had done the dirty with Cartwright and now a little Sam was going to be popping his head out in nine months time. Gene would crucify him!

Dr Blair's expression took on one of complete and utter disapproval. "Megan Ryan," he confided, "And I must say I'm surprised at her. Comes from a good family. Father a police officer too. I'm sure there will be fireworks in _that _house when he finds out." He laughed, then stopped, "Are you all right, Gene?"

"You're wrong."

"I assure you I'm not," Dr Blair said, indignant at the accusation.

"You 'ave to be bloody wrong!"

"I'm _not_!"

_Meg. Pregnant. Shit, shit, shit…_ "I…I didn't know…"

"Yes well, she was rather cagey when I was asking her the routine questions. If you ask me, she's known about this for some time." He tutted, "How she thought she could keep it a secret is beyond me. Oh well, another promising career in the force cut short by Mother Nature." He glanced around and then bent over the desk, "You don't happen to know who the unlucky chap is, do you?" Gene stared at him until the doctor backed off, "Ah yes, I had forgotten she was your goddaughter. Well, no offence intended, of course. I'll leave these with you to be properly filed away. Until next year…" With that, he left the office, closing the door behind him.

Gene immediately grabbed Meg's file, which was lying on the top of the pile and opened it. The contents meant nothing to him, except the brief summary which Dr Blair always put at the end of every examination. Meg's read, 'Fit, healthy and seven weeks pregnant.'

He waited. She would know that he knew. The results were always passed to him once the examinations were complete. She would know that he would read them, or even that Dr Blair would tell him. She would know that he knew. She would come in and speak to him about it. He waited. He could hear the sounds of the others outside, muffled voices that he couldn't quite make out, but she didn't come. He waited. Twenty minutes, then another ten, then another twenty. Finally, he got out of his seat, her file in his hand, and opened his office door.

Chris and Ray were laughing over something in the paper while Sam and Annie were obviously going through the witness statements from the latest robbery at 'Tracy's', a posh boutique on the high street and trying to ignore the others. There was no sign of Meg.

"Where's Meg?" he demanded.

Annie looked up, "Bathroom, Guv."

Without further comment, he stormed out of the room and down the corridor, heading for the ladies toilet. He would have it out with her, ask her why she hadn't told him and then…then he wasn't quite sure what he would do. As he neared the door, he could hardly breathe with the stress of it all. He made to push it open when it suddenly opened from the inside and Phyllis appeared.

"Yours is down the corridor, boss," she said, "or is there something you've not told us?"

"Is Meg in there?" he demanded, in no mood for the older woman's brand of humour.

"Meg? No."

"Then where the bloody 'ell is she?"

Sensing he was clearly upset about something, Phyllis wisely chose not to make any further jokes. "Last I saw, she was 'eading to the canteen."

Gene turned and stormed back down the corridor and down the stairs to the canteen, oblivious to the officers he was pushing out of the way as he did so. Should he ask her to marry him? It was what men who got lasses in trouble were supposed to do but then Ted would know. _Jesus…Ted…_

The canteen was quiet, save for a few uniformed officers having a cuppa at the far end. There was no sign of Meg. He hurried over to them. "Either of you seen WDC Ryan?"

"Meg?" One of them, a skinny bloke with greasy hair replied, "She were in 'ere a few minutes ago."

"Where did she go?" he demanded.

"Don't know Sir," the other officer replied, "PC Wallace and I just told 'er that she looked nice today and…"

"PC Wallace?" Gene turned angry eyes on the skinny one again, "You're PC Wallace?" He nodded, "You're the tosser who asked Meg out on a date, aren't you?" He blushed. "Stay away from 'er," Gene said, "or I'll come round and kick seven shades of shit out of you, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good!" With that, he turned and stormed back out of the canteen and was about to head back up the stairs to CID when he met Sam coming down.

"There's been another robbery," he told him, "same gang of girls as before, they reckon. Plod managed to detain one of 'em at the scene."

"Only one?" Gene snapped, "Told you Plod were bloody useless!" Sam looked at him, "Where's Meg?"

"Soon as the call came in, she legged it over there. She seemed very keen. Anyhow, it'll be better 'aving a woman to talk to the girl. You know, a sense of solidarity." Sam stopped. "You all right, Guv?"

Gene, who hadn't been listening to a word his DI had said after confirming Meg was no longer in the building, snapped back to reality. "Flaming marvellous. Come on, let's get over there."

XXXX

The target this time had been 'The Amazing You' another posh boutique which specialised in women's clothing that was well out of most people's price range. It was the third shop to be hit in the space of a week. The word on the street was that the perpetrators were a group of young girls who attacked the shop in a pack, grabbed what they could and then made their escape.

"It's called steaming," Sam had patiently explained the day after the first robbery.

"Should be called 'off their 'eads'" Meg had replied, "'ave you seen some of the stuff they've nicked? Stuff me Gran would wear if she were still 'ere."

"The point isn't to wear the clothes," Sam had said, "they sell 'em on at cheap prices on the black market. It's all about making money."

Now, here they were at the latest crime scene, with at least one of the culprits in custody. Gene screeched to a halt outside the store next to the Plod car. He could see a young girl sitting in the back seat. Plod were canvassing the area and he saw Meg talking to a posh woman wearing so much makeup Gene was convinced her face would crack when she opened her mouth.

"I'll speak to uniform about the statements," Sam said, getting out of the car.

"Whatever," Gene replied distractedly, his full attention concentrated on Meg, who hadn't yet clocked him. "Meg!" She turned and looked at him. He could tell by the look in her eyes that she knew he knew. "Get yourself over 'ere right now!" She walked calmly towards him, trying to look defiant, but only succeeding in looking more childlike and vulnerable. She stopped in front of him. "You got something you want to tell me?"

"Mrs Brown 'ere is the owner of the store," she said, "according to 'er at about 'alf past three…"

"I'm not talking about the bloody robbery as well you bloody know!" he said, his voice low and full of anger.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied, but her voice wavered.

He stared at her, "You 'ad your medical this morning." She nodded. "Dr Blair is very thorough. Not much gets passed 'im. Found out one of the lads 'ad scabies in 'is scrotum once, so a pregnancy isn't really much of a stretch for 'im." Meg swallowed hard. "_Now _do you 'ave something to tell me?"

She glanced around, "I don't really want to do this 'ere…"

"Funny, that's not what you've said in the past."

"I wouldn't 'ave thought you'd want to do this 'ere either," she pointed out. "Not exactly good for the image 'aving a fight in public with the girl you've gotten up the duff, is it?"

Now it was Gene's turn to swallow hard, "So…it's mine."

Meg's eyes flashed angrily, "Whose did you think it was, you bastard, Robert Redford's?"

"Guv!" Ray shouted over from the Plod car, "We're ready to take 'er to the station for questioning!"

"Be there in a minute," Gene replied, his eyes never leaving Meg's face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Now's not the time or the place," she turned to walk away but he grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. "Let go of me," she said quietly, "please."

"We need to talk about this," he said.

"I know," she replied, wriggling free, "later."

He watched her walk over to the Plod car and climb in beside the suspect. The car pulled away and swung around past him, heading back to the station. As it passed, Meg deliberately kept her face turned away.

XXXX

When Gene walked into Lost and Found an hour later, Meg was already sitting with the girl, the tape recorder on the table.

"Well I see you took the liberty of starting without me," he commented, sitting down beside her. When he had arrived back at the station, he had embarked, yet again, on a hunt for her. Going from the cells, up to CID, the bathrooms again and then to Lost and Found, she had managed to evade him for a good hour. And he didn't like it.

"We 'aven't started yet," she replied calmly. "Helen, this is DCI Hunt." The girl nodded. "Helen Williams, Guv."

"Right then Helen," Gene barrelled in before Meg had a chance to continue, "Do you want to tell me what you and your little gang of bitches 'ave been up to then?" Helen glanced fearfully at Meg before looking back at him. "Cat got your tongue love?"

"I don't…" Helen stuttered, "I mean, I 'aven't…"

"Take your time," Meg said encouragingly.

"No, love, don't take your time," Gene said, "I've got somewhere to be this evening so 'urry up and cough to this so I can out of 'ere."

"Guv…" Meg shot him a warning look which he returned. Truth be told, he couldn't give a rat's arse about the girl in front of him, or this poxy investigation. He wanted to get Meg on her own. He wanted answers from her, needed answers from her and he wasn't sure how much longer he could go without getting them. "Helen," Meg said, turning back, "you were in 'The Amazing You' this afternoon, weren't you?"

"Yes."

"And you were in there to steal clothes, yeah?"

"No."

"You were caught running out of the store with these items," Meg lifted a bag from the floor and emptied the contents out on the table. They consisted of three blouses and a jumper. "Did you take these items from the store?" Helen looked away.

"Answer the bloody question!" Gene thumped the table making both Meg and Helen jump.

"Yes, I did!" Helen shouted.

"Why?" Meg asked.

"Because she made me!" the younger girl started to cry. "She told me I 'ad to."

"Who did?"

"Michelle."

"Michelle who?"

Helen looked up, her eyes wide, "I can't tell you."

"You bloody will tell me, love, or I swear to God I'll wrap this jumper round your little neck!"

"Gene!" Meg exclaimed, momentarily seeming to forget herself.

"I can't!" Helen shouted, "I can't, her dad'll kill us!"

"I'll bloody kill you if you don't give me some answers!" Helen started to cry noisily. "Christ's sake…" Gene muttered.

"Can I 'ave a word, Guv?" Meg said, getting to her feet. "Outside?" She nodded to Helen and then stormed to the door, Gene close behind her. Once outside, she rounded on him, "What the 'ell are you doing?"

"Trying to solve this crime which is more than you're doing," he retorted.

"By bullying a young girl?"

"If it gets the little cow to talk, then yes!"

"She's only a kid!" Meg said.

"Very good with kids, me," Gene replied, stepping up close to her. "Got a way with 'em. You should ask me about it sometime."

She shook her head, "Don't bring our personal issues…"

"What personal issues?"

"…into an interrogation. None of this is about us, Gene! It's about gaining 'er trust, getting 'er to open up to us. It's not about screaming in 'er face so that she confesses so that you can 'ead off down the pub!"

"You're starting to sound more and more like Tyler every day. Anyway, who said anything about going down the pub?" he replied, "After this is over, you and me are 'aving a little chat, sweetheart."

"Not if you're in this mood we're not. Now, I'm going back in there to try and salvage the rest of the interview and stop 'er from completely closing down on us. I don't need you pissing it up by acting like you're about to give 'er a good 'iding!"

He changed tact, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Gene…"

"Why?" he persisted, "you're aving me baby, Meg, and you couldn't even be bothered to bloody well tell me?"

Meg sighed and ran a hand through her hair, "Please, Gene. Later…"

"I don't want to wait until bloody later, I want to bloody well know now!"

"I'm trying to do me job," she said, "come round to the flat later, yeah? I promise you, we can talk about it then." He had no choice but to nod. "Ok. Let me finish this on me own. Reckon you've scared 'er 'alf to death as it is." She gave him a quick smile before darting back into the room and closing the door purposefully behind her.

XXXX

At seven pm, he knocked on the door of the flat and waited. He had managed to get out of going to the pub, much to the shock of the others. "But it's fitness test day, Guv," Ray had said incredulously, "we 'ave to stick together." Gene had come up with some lame excuse about visiting his mother and had headed straight for Meg's flat. A few moments later, the door opened and Meg appeared.

"I figured it was you." She opened the door wider and stepped back inside. He followed her, closing the door behind him, into the living room. "Sandra's at the pictures..."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, before there was time to start talking about anything else.

"Do you want a drink?" she lifted the bottle of whisky sat on the table. "Dad brought it over as a present for us moving in. 'adn't the 'eart to tell 'im I can't stand the stuff and neither can Sandra."

"I'm not interested in 'aving a sodding drink!" he retaliated. Then he thought better of it, "Actually, I reckon I need one." She poured him a glass which he downed in one. "Now, answer me bloody question." She looked at him and he immediately softened his tone. It wouldn't do any good to treat her like a suspect. "Please."

Meg started picking at the sleeve of her cardigan, "I didn't know 'ow…"

"Well it's only two bloody words."

"I didn't know 'ow you'd react."

"So you figured that it'd be better if I found out through your annual fitness exam?"

"I forgot about that," she said with a small laugh, "it was only once I were in the room that I realised I couldn't 'ide it and…" she sighed and sat down on the edge of the couch, "After I'd finished, I were 'alfway to your office and then I just couldn't…" she looked up at him. "I'm sorry. It should 'ave come from me, not Dr Blair."

He looked down at her, at her face, her eyes, seemingly pleading with him to forgive her. _God, she's just a baby,_ he thought,_ a baby 'aving a baby…_ "What did you think I would do?" he asked more gently, sitting down opposite her. She shrugged. "Oh well that's great, that is. Can't even bloody talk to me. Some relationship we've got."

"Relationship?" she shook her head, "We don't 'ave a _relationship _Gene. It's more like a series of random shags. And let's face it, you don't really want anything more serious than that, do you?"

Gene stared at her, "What are you on about?"

"You wouldn't want me dad to find out about us."

"You said you were going to tell 'im!"

"And you knew that I wouldn't! That's why you didn't say anything when I said I would tell 'im, because you knew that, at the end of the day, I wouldn't 'ave the guts!" She shook her head. "Otherwise, you would 'ave taken the initiative and told 'im yourself."

"All right," he conceded, "maybe you're right. Forgive me for wanting to 'old on to me balls a little bit longer, but that doesn't mean…"

"I can't be a single mother," Meg said, "I just can't. Me dad would kill me for a start, not to mention what everyone else would say about me. Then there's me job. I'd 'ave to quit me job and I don't want to do that. I love me job, despite what you might think sometimes about me moaning. I'd 'ave to give all that up if I 'ad a baby."

"You've never been the kind of person who cares what everyone else thinks. That's one of the things I…"

"I am about this," she interrupted him. "It's 1973, Gene! I know we're living in a time of free love and all that crap but I 'aven't been brought up like some little tart and that's what I am. A tart who dropped 'er knickers for 'er boss and got 'erself in trouble. Clever old me!"

"It's not been like that and you know it."

She laughed mirthlessly, "Love me, do you?"

He held her gaze, "Yes."

She stood up and walked to the window, "Bollocks."

"What?"

"I said, 'bollocks.'" She turned and faced him, "You don't love me, Gene. You've never loved anyone in your life. It's all about sex for you and I've been stupid enough to be willing every time you've come calling. Lain flat on me back and opened me legs. Don't ask me why."

"Because I thought you…" his mind raced over their time together, the things they had said to each other. "I thought you…"

"What? You thought what? That I loved you? Jesus Christ, Gene, give us a break. It was as much about shagging for me as it was for you."

He stood up. "You don't mean that." She didn't mean it, he knew she didn't mean it.

"I do," she said defiantly, but her eyes were glassy. "I do mean it. You popped me cherry for me, thanks very much. I'll even go as far as to say that I enjoyed it, but that's it. So, if you've come 'ere to do the 'onorable thing, go on bended knee and ask for me 'and, forget it. It ends 'ere."

"And what?" he asked angrily, "you tell the kid what? That 'e or she were conceived during a random shag with your boss on 'is desk?"

"There isn't going to be a kid, Gene, 'aven't you been listening?" She looked away. "I've got another appointment with me doctor on Monday and 'e's referring me onto a clinic."

"Clinic? What clinic?"

"An abortion clinic. I'm getting rid of it."

He couldn't believe what he was hearing. All right, so kids had never really figured much in his life, but this was Meg. Despite what she thought, he loved her and he knew she loved him and this was their baby. "I don't want you to do that."

"I don't really give a shit what you want," she replied, "I just want it out of me so that I can start again and forget any of this ever 'appened."

"You don't mean that," he said again.

"Oh my God!" Meg put her head in her hands, "Stop telling me what I do and don't mean! You don't know me, you never really 'ave!" She took her hands away from her face and he saw that the tears had spilled down her cheeks. "You saw a pretty girl, you decided you wanted to shag 'er and you did. Congratulations. And me? I saw the man I've idolised probably me whole life and thought 'yeah I fancy a bit of that' and I got it. Mission accomplished for both of us. And now, this 'as 'appened and I 'ave to be the one to deal with it." She paused. "This is what I want, Gene, please don't make it any 'arder!" Her body started to shake and he instinctively took a step towards her to comfort her, but she stepped quickly back, "Don't come near me. Just please leave me alone."

"If you do this," he said, surprised to hear his own voice shaking, "you'll regret it."

"Maybe," she nodded, "but that's something I'll just 'ave to live with, isn't it?"

Nothing he said made any difference. Meg's mind was made up. He tried coaxing her to change her mind, he tried shouting at her, but all she did was shout back. After they had gone round and round in circles for the best part of an hour, Sandra had come home to find Meg crying on the couch and Gene two-thirds of the way through the whisky. She calmly asked him to leave and he did. He stumbled back to his car, got in and revved the engine noisily. Before he pulled away, he looked back up at the window and saw Meg watching him.

_If only you knew, _he thought, _if only you knew how you're breaking me 'eart._


	10. Chapter 10

**Inspiration hit this evening, so here you go! Thanks for all the reviews!!**

**London – May 1981**

It proved more difficult than Alex had expected to track down PC Derek Wallace. When she had arrived at work the following morning she had been told that, contrary to previous information, he wasn't sick but had in fact taken some annual leave which was owed to him and had gone home to Manchester to visit his mother. Alex had subsequently taken the opportunity to covertly retrieve his file from the dusty room which was supposed to double as Human Resources.

Derek Wallace was forty years of age and had been a serving police officer since 1958. His service record was listed as 'average' and he had never shown any inclination towards promotion. He had originally begun his career in the Manchester Police before transferring to the Metropolitan Police in October 1980. His annual reviews listed someone quiet and dedicated, yet several of his assessing officers alluded to the fact that he was a little strange. His service photograph, stapled to the left hand side of the file, depicted an unsmiling man with glasses and greased down hair.

"Yikes," Alex shuddered, "looks more like a serial killer than a police officer."

She toyed with the idea of what to do next. Something inside her was screaming that there was a connection and that PC Wallace was crucial to finding it.

"No," Gene said when she asked if he would mind her taking a trip up to Manchester. "Far too much work to be done down 'ere Bolly."

"But I told you," she pressed, "he is the key to finding the connection, I know he is! I feel we're _this _close to figuring it out." She had taken his silence as a sign that he was almost about to give in. "Don't you want to be able to tell Ted that we've got some news?"

"Fine," he replied, "one day, Bolly, and that's it."

Gleefully, she had taken herself to the nearest available car hire place, resolute that she was not going to brave a train journey north in 1981. Perhaps with hindsight, she should have thought about not braving a car journey north in 1981. Far from receiving a sleek, yet vintage model, she found herself presented with what could only be described as a wreck. Unconvinced that it would even make it out of the car park, she climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. Amazingly, it growled into life and before long she was making her way through the morning traffic and heading for the motorway north.

Soft Cell was playing on the radio and she tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she drove, even finding herself singing along. Somehow getting out of the city made her feel free. As if, if she kept on driving, somehow she would make it home. After several hours driving, stopping off at a grotty service station and consuming something which was meant to resemble a sausage roll and several more hours driving, Alex found herself entering Manchester.

Seeing as it was years before satellite navigation would be invented, or even the AA website, she was reliant on a battered old map that had come with the car. An hour after arriving in the city, she found the street where Derek Wallace's mother lived. It was a pleasant enough area. The gardens were well-kept and there were flowers round the doors. When she found the right house, she walked up the path and knocked on the door. A few moments later, an older woman answered it.

"Can I 'elp you?" she asked, her tone wary.

"I'm Detective Inspector Drake, Metropolitan Police," Alex said, showing her warrant card, "I'm actually looking for your son, Mrs Wallace, Derek?"

"'e's a copper!"

"Yes…I know…"

"'e works for you lot!"

"I know that too…"

"So what you doing up 'ere then?"

"Well, I understood that your son had taken his annual leave and had come up here to see you. I was hoping to have a word with him."

"'e's not been up 'ere," Mrs Wallace insisted, "I ain't seen 'im for a few months now. 'e's always so busy at work and 'ardly ever 'as time to come visit." She squinted, "Are you sure you're a copper?"

"I can assure you I am," Alex said, "It's very important that I speak to him. He may be the missing link in relation to a number of crimes."

"Missing link? My Derek's a good boy! 'e would never get mixed up in anything…"

"No, no, no!" Alex protested, "He's not in any trouble. He may have been involved in helping a number of murder victims and I'm trying…"

"You don't mean all them lovely girls that were murdered up 'ere do you?" Derek's mother now looked excited, "And my Derek might be able to 'elp? Well, I never…" She leaned against the doorframe, "That were a terrible business, so it were. Those lovely young girls, and one of them such a good friend of Derek's."

"Which one was that?"

"The pretty blonde one. The one 'e worked with."

"Megan Ryan?"

"That's the one! They 'ad a bit of a thing you know," Mrs Wallace winked, "but there were keeping it under wraps seeing as she'd just 'ad a baby," she tutted, "I told 'im that 'e shouldn't get involved in bringing up another man's child, but 'e wouldn't listen. After she were murdered, well 'e was dead upset."

"Really?" Alex was finding this conversation increasingly strange. "Would you mind if I came in, Mrs Wallace? I'd love to hear more."

XXXX

Two hours later, she left the house, full to the gunnels with tea and biscuits and with copious notes on Derek Wallace's secret fantasy relationship with Meg Ryan. He had clearly deluded himself and his mother into believing that there was a future for them. It was all very interesting, if a little peculiar, but it went no further towards explaining the missing link.

"'ere," Mrs Wallace said as she was leaving, "You should go and visit that poor girl's grave. It's in the cemetery, right at the top of the 'ill. Derek goes sometimes when 'e's in town, just to pay 'is respects like."

It hadn't been part of Alex's plan to visit Meg's grave, but she suddenly found herself curious to see it. Taking note of the directions, she got back into the car and drove to where Mrs Wallace had indicated, only missing the turn-off twice. When she parked and got out of the car, she couldn't believe how quiet and peaceful it was. No noise from cars or people. Just the gentle sounds of birds and the breeze in the trees.

She walked slowly up the path towards where Derek's mother had directed her. It was a large cemetery, full of old and new graves. Some adorned with flowers, others left abandoned to the ages. At the top of the hill, she caught sight of Meg's tombstone. It and one other stood out from the surrounding stones purely by virtue of their age. As she grew closer, she could make out the simple wording.

_Megan Frances Ryan_

_March 19__th__ 1950 – March 19__th__ 1974_

_Beloved daughter and mother_

_Sadly missed_

Next to it was another new stone marking Catherine Ryan's grave. Mother and daughter, side by side in death. Two lives over within a year of each other. On the other side of Meg's grave, there were no others and instead, a large green space which, no doubt, over the years would become full with other lost souls.

"I know you, don't I?" She jumped and turned suddenly to see Ted Ryan standing behind her. In her reverie, she hadn't heard him approach. "You work with Gene, don't you?" he continued when she didn't reply.

"Yes," she nodded, "I'm Alex Drake."

"Ted Ryan." He stepped up beside her. "Nice spot, isn't it?"

"Lovely."

"I picked it for Catherine because she always did love a view. Never thought in a million years I'd be burying Meg next to 'er."

"I'm very sorry for your loss, sir," Alex said genuinely, "Everyone that I've spoken to that knew Meg, has spoken very highly of her."

Ted smiled wistfully, "She was a good girl. A popular girl. Good with people. Took grand care of me when I needed 'er too. And Danny. She would 'ave made a really good Mum given 'alf a chance."

It was then that Alex noticed the flowers he was holding in hand, "Special occasion?"

He looked down at them, "Catherine's birthday. May 12th." He bent and placed half the bunch on his wife's grave. "Couldn't bring some for 'er and not bring some for Meg too." He placed the other half on his daughter's grave. "Carnations were 'er favourite." There was a long silence. "Are you working on this murder investigation?"

Alex nodded, "Yes. I'm trying to link the murders in London with the ones up here eight years ago."

"Do you think there's a link?"

She paused, knowing she couldn't divulge intimate details, although she was dying to ask if Ted had known anything about Derek Wallace. "I think there's something in it, yes."

"At least you're doing something about it," Ted said, bitterness creeping into his voice, "unlike Gene."

Alex felt an overwhelming urge to defend him, "You can't say that, sir."

"Can't I?"

"No. It's not DCI Hunt's fault that Meg died. The only person responsible is…"

"The person who killed 'er. I know the drill, DI Drake. I was a copper before you were born."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Forget it," Ted waved his hand dismissively and turned away from the graves. He walked over to the small bench a few feet away and sat down. Alex sat down next to him and waited for him to continue. "I don't 'ate 'im you know. Gene, that is. We were best friends once upon a time."

"But you didn't like him seeing your daughter."

"'e's the same age as me! Old enough to be 'er father, not to mention 'er godfather and my mate. The thought of them together turned me stomach. And it weren't just that. It were the lies too. I didn't even know they 'ad been together until I found out she were pregnant with Danny. Of all the people I would 'ave chosen for 'er…"

Alex smiled wryly, "He wouldn't have been one of them."

Ted looked at her sideways, "No."

"They made each other happy though, from what I've heard."

"Happy?" Ted snorted, "They fought all the time. Kept breaking up and making up. Gene wasn't one bit interested in being a dad to Danny. 'e was scared of the commitment. Didn't want to leave his playboy lifestyle behind. Don't forget I knew 'im well. 'e didn't 'ave a clue what to do when Meg were pregnant and after Danny were born 'e was even more clueless."

"But _you _knew what to do."

"I 'ad no choice after Meg went missing! Gene spent all his time at the station and didn't even seem to want to see Danny. Then, after she died and they didn't seem to be getting anywhere with the investigation, 'e was even less enthusiastic."

"He was upset about losing her. Perhaps…"

"I was upset too! She was my daughter but I rose to the occasion and I looked after me grandson and I'm still looking after 'im to this day! Danny didn't even enter Gene's 'ead when 'e decided to relocate to the Met. Never gave 'im a second thought."

Alex recalled her own angry words, her own preconceived notions about Gene's attitude towards his son. "I think he regrets that now."

Ted looked at her in surprise, "Spoken about it to you, has 'e?"

"Well…not in so many words…"

"I thought not."

"Does Danny ask about his father?"

"'e used to. Not so much now."

_How sad, _Alex thought, _how very sad._

"Anyways," Ted looked at his watch, "I 'ave to go and pick 'im up from school now. 'e gets upset if I'm not standing at the gates." He stood up and looked down at her, "Would you like to come?"

"To the school?"

Ted nodded, "I'd like Danny to meet the copper who's going to find his mum's killer."

Slightly reluctantly, Alex walked with Ted back down the hill towards the car park. He agreed that he would bring her back to her car after they had picked Danny up and she sat nervously in the passenger seat as he drove through the streets to the primary school. Ted parked a few streets away from the school and they walked to the gates together. A small group of parents were gathered and most of them waved or shouted to Ted.

"It's like a social gathering 'ere," he divulged with a laugh.

The sound of the school bell shrilled through the air and children began to pour out of the main entrance. Before Ted had even pointed him out, Alex recognised Danny. It was uncanny. From spending hours staring at pictures of Meg and hours standing in front of Gene, it was patently obvious that he was their child. Taller than most of the other children, he came loping towards them, his schoolbag hanging off of one shoulder. His hair was blonde and as he grew closer, Alex's breath caught in her throat. He had Gene's eyes.

"A'right mate," Ted ruffled his hair affectionately, "Danny, this is Alex Drake. She's police officer from London. I met her at Mummy's grave this afternoon."

Alex baulked slightly at the easy way in which he said it, but Danny showed no sign of embarrassment or upset, "Did you know me Mummy?" he asked.

"Not personally," Alex shook her head, "but I know lots of people who did. And I know your Daddy."

Danny looked quickly at his grandfather who turned away, "Shall we take Alex to Barney's for an ice cream?" Danny nodded emphatically, "Do you have time?"

"Oh…yes, why not?" she acquiesced. Ted took Danny's hand and they began walking down towards a row of shops at the bottom of the street where there was a sign for an ice cream parlour. Alex could hardly believe it when she walked in. It was so reminiscent of childhood holidays that at first she held her breath. It was only when Danny grabbed her sleeve and dragged her over to a table by the window that she came back to reality.

"This is our table, isn't it Danny?" Ted said as they sat down. "Right 'ere by the window."

"I can't see why you like it," Alex said, smiling at Danny who smiled shyly back. The waitress came and they all ordered chocolate sundaes.

"Are you going to find out who killed me Mummy?" Danny asked.

"I'm trying to," Alex said, "I hope I will."

"I'ope you do too." He ran his finger along a small crack in the tabletop, "'ave you seen me Daddy?"

"Not since yesterday," she replied, glancing sideways at Ted. He had fixed his gaze on something outside the window and she had to give him credit for not jumping in and changing the subject. "I didn't know I was going to meet you today," she continued, "if I'd known I could have told him and I'm sure he would have been happy about it. I know he sends his love." She sensed Ted turn to face his grandson again and saw them exchange looks. "So," she decided to change the subject, "do you like school, Danny?" He nodded. "And what do you want to be when you grow up?"

"A policeman."

"Really? That's wonderful."

"I'm trying to talk 'im out of it, aren't I Danny?" Ted said, "Not good money. You want to be doing something to make you lots of cash."

Danny grinned and Alex could see both Meg and Gene in him. "I'm going to be a policeman like Mummy and Daddy and Grandpa. And you," he added, pointing at Alex. At that moment, the ice creams arrived and Danny's attention was totally taken up with it. After devouring it, he asked to be excused to go and wash his hands.

"He's a lovely little boy," Alex commented when he had left the table.

"Thank you."

"And he looks so like…both of them." Ted merely nodded. "I'm sure Gene would love to do this with you. Pick Danny up from school and have ice cream."

"Yes, well," Ted replied stiffly, "Maybe one day 'e'll find the time or the inclination." Danny came back to the table. "Right then, young man. We'd better get Alex back to 'er car and let 'er go home."

"To London?" Danny asked.

Alex nodded, "It's a long way back." She followed them out of the café and back along the road to where Ted had left the car. The car journey back to the cemetery took slightly longer in the heavier traffic but before she knew where she was, she was outside the car, leaving in the backseat to say goodbye to Danny. "It was lovely to meet you," she said. "Perhaps you can come and work for me one day when you're a policeman." Danny nodded. "Your Daddy too."

"It was nice to see you again, Alex," Ted said. "Perhaps you could let me know if you do find anything out about the case."

"I will," she said, "and thank you for the ice cream." Ted pulled away and she waved at Danny until the car had rounded the corner and was out of sight. Then, she walked back to where she had left the car and started the journey back to London.

"Well?" Gene demanded the following morning when she arrived at work, still exhausted from the drive home and the few snatched hours of sleep she had managed overnight. "Did you find 'im?"

She shook her head, "His mother hasn't seen him for some time. She wasn't aware that he was supposed to be on leave. He's due back at work next week, so I'll try and speak to him then. It's all a bit peculiar," she confessed, "perhaps he's having some personal problems." She paused, wondering if she should divulge Derek's feelings for Meg.

"Perhaps my arse would win Mr Universe for me," Gene replied, "Oh well, at least you can claim the expenses. By the way," he said, "Laura Hemmings parents are here looking for an update. I thought you and I could…you know…"

"Yes, of course," Alex replied, resolving that she could mention Derek later when Gene had had a few drinks. She paused, "I met your son." Gene froze in front of her. "Danny. He's a lovely kid. Well-mannered, well-spoken and the spitting image of both you and Meg." She smiled.

"Oh yeah?" She nodded. "Did 'e…did 'e mention me at all?"

Alex wasn't sure how to identify the look in his eyes. Curiosity? Hope? "He seemed very interested when I told him I knew you," she said. Gene nodded, but didn't say anything. "Anyway," she said, sensing that he wouldn't ask any more. "Shall we?"

"After you, Bolly," he opened the door for her and they began walking down the corridor together.

"I went to Meg's grave too."

"Bloody 'ell, you really were sightseeing weren't you?"

"It's a lovely place. For a cemetery, that is."

"Yeah it is."

"Nice and green."

"Yup."

"And open."

Gene stopped at the double doors leading to reception and nodded, "She would 'ave liked it. Meg, that is."

"I'm sure she would."

"I like it there too." He nodded, "Maybe one day I'll be there meself."

"Not thinking of going and dying on me now, are you?" Alex joked.

He didn't react to her humour. Instead, he looked past her, as though he was somewhere else, thinking about somewhere else, someone else. "Reckon I should be beside 'er, don't you?"

Alex didn't have a chance to answer the question. Gene threw open the door and walked into reception, leaving her trailing in his wake.


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks so much for all your reviews!!**

**Manchester – June 1973**

"This is a lot of nonsense Gene and you know it!" Superintendent Frank Rathbone glared at Gene from behind his desk, his face almost purple with rage, "I'm not sitting here and listening to this…"

"It's the truth, Sir," Gene interrupted impatiently. "Helen Williams told us…"

"Helen Williams is a stupid little tart with a big mouth!" Gene was stunned by his superior's turn of phrase, "She comes from an extremely disreputable family and I would place absolutely no credence whatsoever in what she tells you."

"WDC Ryan believes…"

"Hah!" Rathbone snorted, "Well that says it all. A big disappointment she's turned out to be." Gene bit his tongue hard. News of Meg's pregnancy had rapidly spread and it seemed as though it didn't matter where he went in the station but someone was talking about it. "I hardly think that the combined word of the Williams' girl and Megan Ryan is enough to suggest that my granddaughter is in any way responsible for this…what did you call it again?"

"Steaming."

"This…steaming." Rathbone shook his head, "Michelle is a well-behaved, well-mannered young girl who is destined for great things. I will _not _have her reputation sullied by a tart from the wrong side of a town and an officer who could be described as nothing more than a glorified prostitute."

Gene physically stepped back from the Superintendent's desk, so convinced was he that he would punch him. "Well, sir, I'm sure you won't object to us continuing with our enquiries."

"Of course not," Rathbone said, "but nothing is to be said about my granddaughter. Do you understand me, Gene? I won't have it!"

"Understood sir," Gene replied, opening the door, "Loud and clear." He left, banging it loudly behind him, the only display of emotion he was willing to show at this stage. Sighing heavily, he made his way back into CID where the others were waiting to hear the verdict.

"Well?" Ray said, as soon as he walked through the door. "What did 'e say?"

Gene ignored him and walked forward to Meg's desk. She sat watching him, twirling a pen between her fingers. It had been two weeks since he had found out she was pregnant and over a week since she had had the abortion. Conversation between them had been virtually non-existent but he had watched her return to work, act as though nothing had happened, despite the whispers going round the station about her. Every time he saw her he was torn between wanting to hug her and hit her. Every time he was near to her, he couldn't help thinking about how pale she looked, particularly today.

"Rathbone didn't buy it," he directed his remarks to her, but the room collectively groaned. "'e's not convinced that 'is precious granddaughter's involved."

"Well you didn't really expect 'im to, did you?" Sam piped up.

Gene kept looking at Meg, "Are you sure this girl's telling you the truth and not feeding you a load of bullshit?"

"You saw her," Meg replied, "she was genuine."

"Maybe she's jealous of Michelle. Maybe she's looking for a way to get 'er in trouble…"

Meg shook her head, "No. She was telling the truth, Gene. She's scared of Michelle and I'm beginning to understand why." She pulled out a pad of paper. "I went to their school a couple of days ago…"

"You did what?" Gene demanded.

Meg looked at him, "I went to their school," she repeated.

"I don't recall you running this past me."

"Anyway," she ignored him, "I spoke with the head teacher about Michelle…"

"I said, I don't recall you running this past me!"

"You were busy!"

"I am in charge of this department, Megan," he reminded her, "You might like to go charging off on your own in relation to most things…" she winced and he felt a small grain of satisfaction, "but when it comes to my investigation…"

"I'm sorry," she pre-empted him. "I thought it was the sensible thing to do under the circumstances. I spoke to the head teacher about Helen and I mentioned Michelle's name. Now, she didn't say anything specific…"

"But?"

"But the impression I got was that Michelle's quite the school bully."

"Just like 'er grandfather," Sam commented.

"Right," Gene clapped his hands, "I don't really care whether or not Rathbone thinks the sun shines out of 'is granddaughter's arse, I want this gang of little tarts caught." He turned back to Meg, "Is Helen going to co-operate?"

She nodded, "She says they're going to hit that new boutique at the far end of Renwick Road, then they'll take their haul to their 'iding place down by the canal."

"Ok, Sam, Chris, Annie, I want you three waiting at the shop. Cartwright, you'll be on the inside as a shop assistant. Grab as many as you can, but I want Michelle to get away. Me, Ray and Meg will be waiting down by the canal to pick them up when they get there. Everyone clear?" They nodded. "Right, let's get going!" He turned, but out of the corner of his eye, saw Meg wince slightly as she got out of her seat. When he turned back to look at her, however, the moment had passed.

XXXX

The gang's hiding place down by the canal consisted of no more than a small in-shot underneath one of the bridges. Helen had taken Meg and Annie to see it and what they had found were bags and bags of stolen clothes stuffed inside and the entrance then sealed over. Anyone passing would simply think there was a crack in the stone, if they noticed anything at all.

The area was quiet, with only a few afternoon strollers. Gene parked a few feet away from the bridge but hidden from anyone approaching the bridge from the direction of the town centre. He and Ray were sat in the front and Meg in the back.

"What do you reckon Rathbone's going to say when we nail 'is granddaughter?" Ray asked.

"Dunno. Doubt 'e'll be too 'appy mind."

"I'd pay good money to see 'is face when 'e finds out," Ray chuckled, "what about you, Meg?" There was no reply from the backseat. Gene looked in his mirror and saw Meg staring out of the window. "Meg?"

"What?" she jumped slightly and turned to face forwards.

"I said, wouldn't you pay money to see Rathbone's face when 'e finds out about Michelle?" Ray repeated.

"Oh…yeah…suppose." She met Gene's gaze and turned away again.

"You feeling all right?" Ray asked.

"Fine."

"You don't look it. Don't you reckon she looks pale, Guv?"

"'e's right," Gene said, trying to sound non-committal, "You look a bit peaky."

"I'm fine," Meg replied firmly, "Can we focus on what we're doing rather than the state of me health?"

Before anyone could reply, the radio crackled, "432 to DCI Hunt."

Gene grabbed it, "Go ahead, Chris."

"They've just hit the shop, Guv," he relayed breathlessly, "we've got two of 'em. The other three, including Michelle and Helen are heading your way. DI Tyler and Annie are in pursuit."

"Nice one, Christopher!" Gene threw the radio down, "Get ready girls and boys!"

"I don't see nobody," Ray commented, straining to look out the window.

"They're fifteen year old girls, Ray, not Olympic sprinters," Meg said sarcastically. A few moments later, three figures came hurtling down the hill towards the bridge, "There!"

"Right let's get the little tarts!" Gene declared. They got out of the car and hurried down the embankment to the path leading under the bridge. From the other side, the three girls came running towards them, Annie and Sam in the distance. Gene saw instantly, that the girl in front was Michelle Rathbone.

When she saw them heading towards her, Michelle pulled up quickly, "Shit! Coppers!" She, Helen and the other girl turned to run in the opposite direction but came face to face with Sam and Annie.

"Well, well, well," Gene said, advancing on them, "Granddad isn't going to be too 'appy with you, is 'e Michelle?" She glared at him as he grabbed the bag she was holding and pulled out a purple cardigan, "Not exactly your colour, love. Annie, Meg." He gestured to them both and they stepped forward to search the girls.

Annie took Helen, who pretended to play along and called her a cow and Meg stepped towards Michelle. The third girl immediately threw her bag down and put her hands up as if she were in some Wild West movie. As Meg made to take Michelle's arm, the younger girl lashed out, pushing Meg hard and then following it up with a swift knee to the abdomen before anyone could react. Meg stumbled back against the railing and Gene leapt forward, grabbing Michelle's arm and twisting it painfully up her back.

"Get off me you bastard!" Michelle yelled. "Me dad and granddad'll 'ave you for this!"

"Oh really? I'd like to see you explain all these robberies to them," Gene replied, "Not to mention assaulting a police officer!"

"Pig bastard!"

"Ray, take the lovely Ms Rathbone away please," he shoved Michelle at Ray.

"Guv!"

Gene turned to where he had heard Annie shout and saw her crouched down on the path next to Meg who was bent double and holding her stomach. He hurried over. "It weren't that bad, Meg. She's not exactly Cassius Clay."

"Guv, she's bleeding," Annie said in a low voice.

"What the 'ell…?"

"Summat's wrong, Guv," She looked up at him fearfully, "She needs to get to 'ospital now!"

"All right, get 'er in the car." He bent down and took one of Meg's arms. Annie took the other and they pulled her gently to her feet. As they did so, she cried out in pain. "Is this normal?" he asked her, concerned.

"Normal for what?" she asked through gritted teeth as they began walking towards where he had left the car.

"Normal after a…you know…"

"I don't know," she replied, "Oh God, it hurts!"

"Come on Meg," Annie encouraged, "we're nearly there." A few more steps and they were at the car. Annie opened the back door and helped Meg in. "I'll ride in the back with her, Guv," she said.

Nodding, Gene jumped into the driver's seat and gunned the engine. He pulled away out onto the main road, forgetting entirely about the others, and turned in the direction of the hospital. Traffic was heavy and he found himself beeping angrily at other motorists and shouting obscenities out of the window. Every so often, he glanced in the rear view mirror. Meg was deathly pale, her eyes were closed and she was clearly in pain. Annie was talking quietly to her.

"She all right?"

Annie met his gaze, "I don't know."

"Stupid bloody tart," he muttered. "Shouldn't 'ave come back so soon. I knew she weren't well earlier." Neither Annie nor Meg made any comment so he focused instead on trying to get them all to the hospital alive. When they reached Accident and Emergency, he pulled into the ambulance bay and Annie leapt out of the car and ran inside to find a nurse, leaving Gene with Meg. He got out of the driver's seat, opened the back door and crouched beside her. "'ow do you feel now?"

"Like shit. Ow!" She pitched forward and, in doing so, grabbed his hand. "Oh God, oh God what's happening? Gene…"

"I'm 'ere."

"I don't want to lose our baby! Please tell me I'm not going to lose our baby…"

He was stunned by this, "What?" Before Meg could reply, Annie came hurrying back out of the entrance followed by a nurse pushing a trolley. Gene found himself being pushed out of the way as both women gently eased Meg out of the car and onto the trolley before whisking her away inside. He stood beside the car, trying to process what she had just said. She didn't want to lose the baby. But…hadn't she already gotten rid of it?

"Oi mate!" He turned and saw an ambulance man looking at him. "You can't leave that there. Get it shifted!"

Without a word, Gene got back into the car and drove into the car park. He circled twice before he found a space and after parking, sat staring out of the windscreen. She was still pregnant. She was still carrying his baby. But maybe now she was losing it. She needed him there. He should be there. Spurred into action, he leapt out of the car and ran back towards the hospital entrance. Pushing through the doors, he saw Annie hovering nervously in the waiting area.

When she saw him, she came forward, "They've taken 'er away to check 'er over. They said they'd come back when…"

"Is she still pregnant?" Annie didn't answer, "Cartwright, you'd better bloody tell me the truth," he demanded. "Did Meg have an abortion?"

Annie shook her head, "No."

"Jesus, bloody 'ell…" Gene sank down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, "but, she said she would. She was adamant…"

"She couldn't go through with it," Annie sat down next to him, "that's all I know, Guv, honest. You'll 'ave to get the rest from 'er."

Gene looked at her curiously, "You know, don't you?"

"Know what?" Annie stared impassively back at him.

"About the baby. About it being…" Annie nodded, meaning he didn't have to finish. "Does anyone else…?" She shook her head.

He thought back over the events of the last two weeks. How he and Meg had avoided each other, how she couldn't look him in the eye. Not because she _had _got rid of the baby, but because she _hadn't._ He had pushed her, he knew he had. He had been sullen and petty towards her, given her menial tasks to do, all to try and punish her, never knowing, never suspecting for one minute that when she had sat in front of him, when she had done everything that he had asked, that she had still had his baby inside of her. And now it might be gone. He hated himself for not realising the truth.

It felt like hours before the nurse came out. Gene had just come back from having a cigarette when he saw her approach. "If you want, you can see 'er now," she said.

"Is she all right?" Annie asked.

"She's weak and tired, but she's fine."

"What about the baby?" Gene asked fearfully.

The nurse turned to look at him, "The baby's fine. The bleeding she experienced was as a result of the injury she sustained, but it's nothing serious. Her iron levels, however, have been extremely low so we're monitoring that now and we can give her some medication to take to help bring them up."

He breathed an immense sigh of relief and had to sit down again. He shut his eyes tight and stared into the blackness, thanking any God who might care to listen. After a few moments, he felt Annie's hand on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, he turned to look at her. "Go and see 'er, Guv," she said, "I'll phone the station and let everyone know she's all right."

He nodded and waited until she had moved off towards the nearest payphone before getting to his feet and making his way down the corridor where the nurse had indicated Meg was. It was a small curtained off area at the very end with one other empty bed in it. When she saw him standing, Meg smiled wanly. He paused and then stepped towards the bed.

"You're all right then," he said, after a long moment.

"I'm fine," she replied.

"No…eh…no long term damage?"

"No."

"Good."

"I'm sorry about…"

"Well you'd best take a good few days off. Maybe even a few weeks, you know, get yourself back to full fitness," he interrupted her, "Can't 'ave you on the job when you're not 100 per cent fit."

"Gene…"

"I'm sure we can cope without you for a few weeks. Tell you what, why not make it a few months. In fact, push the boat out and make it nine."

"Gene, please…"

"Why didn't you tell me?" he snapped. She didn't reply. "You made me believe that you'd gotten rid of it! You took a few days off and then you came back and you said _nothing_!"

Meg looked away, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"Oh well that makes it all right then, doesn't it?" Having experienced the relief that she and the baby were all right, he now couldn't put into words how angry he was with her. "You came back to work and you let me boss you about, allowed me to put you in danger today, all the time knowing that you were still pregnant! 'ow could you…I mean, I don't understand…" He sat down in the chair next to the bed and rubbed his eyes. "If I'd only known…"

"I couldn't go through with it," she said. "I went to me doctor and he referred me to the clinic and I went but…" she sighed, "I was sat in the waiting room and they called me name and…and I just couldn't go in. I couldn't bring meself to kill my baby, to kill your baby. So, I left. And I wanted to tell you, I really did, but I just couldn't because…well because…"

"Because what?"

"Because I didn't know if you'd still want me. I didn't know if you'd still want us." She put her hand on her stomach, "After everything I said…I'm going to keep the baby. I want it, more than I thought I did, more than I would ever 'ave imagined I did." She looked at him, "You can be involved as much or as little as you want, Gene. I understand if…"

"So I get a choice now, do I?" he replied angrily, "funny that, seeing as I 'aven't 'ad much of one before." Meg looked away again. "I told you that I loved you, that I didn't want you to get rid of the baby and you…you threw it all back in me face. And you let me believe that you 'ad gone ahead with the abortion. 'Ow do you think that makes me feel, Meg?" He was bearing his soul to her now, something he had never done with anyone else, something he knew he could only do with her.

Tears formed in her eyes. "Shit, probably. I don't exactly feel too clever meself. Getting pregnant made me realise that this is real, that it isn't just some fantasy I've been 'aving in me 'ead. I didn't know 'ow to deal with that because before, I could just tell meself that it was sex. A bit of fun. But a baby makes it all so…so real, Gene. I thought that if…if I got rid of it, then it could just go back to being a bit of fun again, but…but I know now that's not what I want."

"So what _do _you want?"

"Me baby. And me baby's dad."

"Christ…" Gene groaned, leaning forward in the chair and pulling her to him. She put her arms around his neck and he buried his face in her hair. "You are going to be the bloody death of me, Megan Ryan." He felt her laugh, "Not to mention becoming a father at my age."

She pulled back and looked up at him, "I think you'll make a bloody good father."

"Do you want to…?"

"No," she said quickly.

"You don't know what I was going to say."

"Yes I do. The answer's…not yet."

"Fine," he sighed, 'ave it your way. But you know that everyone in the station'll be talking about this. Truth'll come out sooner or later and I guarantee that Rathbone is going to do everything in 'is power to get you out."

"I don't think Rathbone's going to be in a position to be doing anything, do you?" Meg replied, "Not now 'is granddaughter's begun 'er life of crime."

Gene bent and kissed her "Guess not."

"What on earth…?" Gene pulled back quickly and turned to see Ted standing behind him looking completely and utterly shocked.

"Dad!" Meg exclaimed.

"Shit," Gene said.

"What the 'ell's going on?" Ted demanded, storming up to the bed.

"Nothing," Gene said quickly, standing up, "We were just…" Ted's face indicated that he wouldn't get away with any lie. "I can explain, Ted…" he was stopped by the force of Ted's fist against his face. The blow knocked him backwards and he slithered down the bed onto the ground.

"Dad, no!" Meg screamed.

"The nurse told me," He heard Ted say, "I don't think she realised I didn't know. Is it 'im, Meg? Is it 'im that's got you in trouble? 'ave you been _sleeping _with _'im?_"

"It's not what you think…"

"'ave you been sleeping with 'im?!"

"Yes!"

"Oh my God…" Gene looked up to see Ted put his head in his hands, "Oh my God…'ow long 'as this been going on?"

"A few weeks," Meg replied, "Dad, I'm sorry..."

"'Ow could you lie to me? 'Ow could you do this?!"

Gene pulled himself to his feet, tasting the blood from his split lip. "You want to beat the crap out of me, Ted, go ahead. It's not going to change anything." Ted looked at him and Gene could see the anger and, indeed, hatred in his eyes. "I love Meg…"

"Oh Jesus!" Ted looked as if he was about to be sick. "She's me daughter! She's your goddaughter!"

"I know."

"And you!" Ted rounded on Meg, "'ow could you even _think_…?"

"Because I love 'im," Meg said calmly, "I love 'im, Dad and 'e's the father of my baby and we're going to be together as a family."

"Oh my God!" Ted said again, 'It's disgusting! _This _is disgusting!" He shook his head at Meg, "You stupid, stupid girl."

"Ted, listen…" Gene stepped towards him, but Ted stepped back.

"Don't come near me, Gene. Not unless you want a good 'iding. You're finished, do you understand that? I'm going to make sure that you're finished!" He turned to leave and then turned back to Meg, "What 'ave you done?" Then he turned and hurried out.

"That wasn't 'ow I wanted 'im to find out," Meg said after a long moment. "Are you all right?"

"I'll live," Gene replied. He sat back down in the chair and felt Meg take his hand.

"'e'll be serious, you know," she said, "God, 'e looked so…so disgusted…I've never seen 'im look so..."

"Don't worry," he squeezed her hand, "It'll be all right." She didn't look convinced, "I promise you, nothing's going to come between us, ok?" She nodded. "You, me and the baby. Forever."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey everyone! I'm not overenamoured with this chapter. I find myself in one of those situations where I know where I want to get to, but can't quite conjure up the pathway to 'there.' I hope you like it anyway! Also, for a while I've had 1973 and 1981 running in tandem month-wise, but I feel I need to push 1973 on a bit otherwise we'll never get to Meg's murder! Hope you follow what I mean and please keep reviewing!!**

**London – May 1981**

"Bolly, do you know how long it's been since I last 'ad sex?"

Gene and Alex were ensconced at their usual table in the corner of Luigi's. It was late, the rest of the team having headed home for the evening. It had been a difficult few days, finding themselves seemingly no further forward in the investigation. Alex was desperate for Derek Wallace to return to work. She was still convinced he was the key.

Alex took another swig of her wine. "I'm not sure I want to know the answer to that."

"Too bloody long," Gene continued regardless. "In fact, if I 'ad to count it…"

"Please, please don't…"

"It must be about…"

"I really don't need to hear this…"

"At least a year."

She looked at him with surprise. "A year?"

"I know, Bolly, it's ridiculous! 'ow could anyone resist the sheer animal magnetism of the Gene Genie?"

"Do you really need me to answer that question?" He grunted in response. "Who was the last lucky lady?"

"Can't remember," he replied honestly. He genuinely couldn't. It had no doubt been some equally drunken tart who had thrown herself at him shamelessly and which he had, quite understandably, not refused.

"Typical man," Alex said.

"Says she who bedded some…what was it you called 'im, Thatcherite?"

"Yes well…"

"It's bloody depressing. I mean, a bloke's got needs, don't 'e?"

Alex smiled, "Well, I'm sure there are lots of intelligent women out there who would _love _to…well…get to grips with you."

"Really?" He looked at her curiously, wondering how far he could push it. "Know any, do you?" She started to laugh. "What's so bloody funny?"

"Nothing," she struggled to compose herself.

"You don't fancy a tumble with the Gene Genie, do you?" He was drunk, he knew he was drunk, but what bloke would say no?

"I've always thought it rather inappropriate to start a relationship with one's superior officer." She raised her eyebrows at him and refilled her glass.

Her statement brought him up short. He hadn't been thinking about Meg. For the first time since the killings had begun, he hadn't been thinking about her. He had been enjoying Alex's company, even fantasising a little as to where the evening could go.

"What?" Alex asked when he didn't respond. Then light dawned in her eyes, "Oh, shit…"

"It's all right."

"No, it isn't. I didn't mean…"

"Forget it, Bolls."

"No, I…" she looked at him wide-eyed with regret, "I didn't mean you and Meg. I wasn't…I mean…"

It was good to see her flustered for once and for the briefest of moments, he allowed her to flounder in her embarrassment. Then pity overcame him. "Really, it's fine. You're probably right anyway. It _was _inappropriate. Didn't do either of us any good in the end."

"You can't seriously think that."

"Can't I?" he looked at her.

"What about Danny?"

"Danny." He said his son's name and then wondered exactly what it meant. It could have been any child's name. All Danny was to him now was a seven year old boy he hadn't seen for over a year. A relic of the past. Something that had been created in a fleeting moment by his love for Meg. "I like to sit on me 'igh horse about 'im, Bolly, but in reality, I 'aven't done a thing for 'im. I know that."

"Everything you said before," she said, "it rang true. Letting Ted take him…you did what you thought was best for him at the time."

"Yeah," Gene stared into the bottom of his glass, "and as time's gone on, I've conveniently let it stay that way. You were right in what you said."

"No I wasn't."

"You were," he pressed, "you and Ted and everyone else. I'm no more 'is dad than…" He broke off, not quite sure how to finish.

"Don't talk like that," Alex said, putting her hand over his, "It's not too late to change things."

Her touch started a fire in his groin that started to spread up through his body. He raised his eyes and looked into hers. "Isn't it, Bolly?"

"No," she said, softly, "it's never too late, Gene. That's what I have to hold on with Molly. It's never too late for me to get back to her, and it's never too late for you and Danny."

He was inches away from her. If he just moved his head forward, he would be kissing her. She didn't seem in any hurry to move away from him, her hand still on his. He thought he could hear her breathing growing more shallow. His body was definitely responding to her, but so was his mind, in a way that it hadn't for so long.

"Bolly…"

"Signor Hunt…" Luigi interrupted, approaching them.

"We're a bit busy 'ere, Luigi," Gene said, never taking his eyes from Alex's face."I'm sorry," the Italian apologised, "but there is a telephone call for you."

"Who is it?"

"They did not say. They just said it was important."

Gene rolled his eyes impatiently at Alex and then got unsteadily to his feet. Taking his hand from hers, he stumbled across the restaurant to the phone on the bar and lifted the received where Luigi had laid it down.

"'ello?"

"Gene? Gene, it's Ted."

"Oh yeah?" Gene replied suspiciously, "look, if you're on to 'ave a go…"

"I'm not," Ted replied, "it's…well…there's been an accident."

"What kind of accident?" Gene asked, rubbing his tired eyes.

"It's Danny."

This brought Gene up short, "What? What about Danny? What's 'appened?"

"It was a car. It just 'it 'im on the way 'ome from school and…you should get up 'ere, Gene." He could hear the tremble in the other man's voice, "You should get up 'ere now. St Matthew's Hospital."

Gene slammed the phone down and hurried back over to where Alex was watching. "It's Danny," he said, reaching her, "that was Ted, summats 'appened."

"Is he all right?" Alex asked.

"I don't know," he shook his head, "'e just said there 'ad been an accident. Something about 'im being 'it by a car…" He fumbled in his pocket for his car keys. "I 'ave to get up there."

"Not in your condition," Alex said, "you're drunk!"

"Well spotted!" he snapped at her.

"You can't drive."

"Watch me!" He made to walk away but she grabbed his arm.

"Gene, don't be stupid! If you drive all the way up there in this condition, you're liable to kill someone, if not yourself, and then what good are you going to be to anyone?"

She was the voice of reason, he knew she was. "'e's me son, Bolly."

"I know. But…please…let me drive instead. I've only had a couple of glasses." He looked at her, "Please."

He nodded, "All right, if you insist." He tossed her the keys, "But we 'ave to go now, Bolly, ok? We 'ave to go _now!_"

**Manchester – August 1973**

"Tyler, do you know how long it's been since I last 'ad sex?"

Gene and Sam were ensconced in the Railway Arms. The others had long since gone home but having had a fight that afternoon with Meg, Gene wasn't keen on going to her place and lately his own flat was becoming more and more lonely and uninviting. Sam appeared none too eager to head for home either for some reason that Gene couldn't fathom.

"Oh my God, do we 'ave to?" Sam replied, putting down his glass.

"Go on, guess."

"I don't know."

"Guess."

"Twelve hours?"

"Oh be realistic! I know I'm 'unky as 'ell but even I can't do it in the middle of an interrogation. Actually, I probably could…"

"I was being facetious."

"Well try again."

Sam shook his head. "I've honestly got no idea."

"Six weeks! Six bloody weeks! Can you imagine it?" Gene was genuinely outraged.

"Strangely enough, yes."

"Don't know what's bloody wrong with 'er," he grumbled.

"Who?"

"Meg, who do you think?"

"Sometimes I wonder."

"I am totally faithful I'll 'ave you know," Gene said, offended by the insinuation.

"Yeah, right."

"Anyway…every time I make a move, or a suggestion for sex, she rebuffs me! Keeps going on about not feeling well or 'aving an 'eadache." He downed the last of his pint.

"'as it ever occurred to you," Sam said slowly, "that's she's three months pregnant?"

"So?"

"So…maybe she doesn't feel like 'aving you grunting on top of 'er like some…some wildebeest."

"I'm offended by that! I know 'ow to treat a lady in a delicate condition! You just can't go in as deep."

Sam stared at him as if he were crazy, "What?"

"You know," Gene gestured wildly, "so you don't…erm…dislodge it."

"Sometimes, I really wonder where you come from," Sam said, shaking his head. "Anyway, it doesn't look as if you're going to be getting any for a while judging by the argument the two of you 'ad this afternoon."

"Hmm."

"What actually 'appened?" Sam asked, "One minute the place is relatively peaceful, the next thing Meg comes marching out of your office yelling over 'er shoulder about you being an overweight dickhead."

"One of the _nicer _turn of phrases she used this afternoon," Gene mused, "She's pissed off with Rathbone and, consequently, me."

"Still?"

"'e's trying to make 'er life difficult, you know, about the baby."

"'e's not really in a position to talk, is 'e?" Sam said, draining his glass, "Not with darling granddaughter Michelle up in front of the Magistrate at the end of the month."

"She's not getting on with Ted either."

"I thought 'e'd calmed down a bit?"

Gene shook his head, "When 'e' gets a drink in 'im apparently, 'e goes off on one at 'er. It's not good for 'er, Sam, not in 'er condition."

"Oh so _now _you're concerned about 'er condition," Sam teased, "A minute ago it was just a convenient excuse to deny you sex."

"Hmph," Gene chose to ignore this, "'ow are things going with those muggings?"

"Uniform are all over it," Sam replied.

"Who 'ave they got doing it?"

"PC Wallace is leading the charge so I 'ear."

"PC Wallace?" Gene looked incredulous, "the skinny bastard who thought 'e 'ad a chance with Meg?"

"Still does by all accounts," Sam said.

"'e couldn't run an orgy in a brothel and besides…" Gene trailed off as he took in what Sam had said, "what do you mean, ''e still does by all accounts'?"

"Oh come on, Guv, don't say you 'aven't seen it?"

"Seen what?"

"'e follows Meg around like a puppy. Keeps giving 'er all the updates on the muggings… 'e's got a real thing for 'er, baby or no baby."

Gene felt rather put out by this. "Well perhaps 'e needs reminding exactly what female officers 'e can moon over and what female officers 'e can't moon over!"

"I wouldn't worry," Sam grinned, "If Meg's not giving you any, I doubt anyone else is getting any either."

Gene opened his mouth to fire back a retort when Nelson called over from the other end of the bar. "DCI Hunt!"

"Nelson, we're in the middle of a rather important conversation 'ere!" Gene replied.

"There's a telephone call for you," Nelson said, holding up the receiver. "They said it was important."

Gene walked over and snatched the receiver from him. "'ello?"

"Is that Gene Hunt?"

"Yeah, who the bloody 'ell's this?"

"Mike Carter. I'm the landlord down at the Pig and Carrot on Henderson Road?"

"I've got a local boozer, thank you very much," Gene made to put the phone down.

"No, wait!" Mike stopped him, "There's someone down 'ere, a DCI Ted Ryan?"

Gene paused, "What about 'im?"

"Well, 'e's 'ad a bit too much to drink. I've tried calling Meg but I can't get an answer at 'er place, so I thought…"

"'ow do you know Meg?" he demanded.

"Ted's a regular. 'e ain't been this bad for a while though. Is there any chance you could…?"

"Bloody 'ell," Gene swore, "All right, give us ten minutes." He slammed the receiver down and walked back over to where Sam was watching.

"What's up?"

"Ted's only got 'imself completely pissed at some pub down on 'enderson Road." He shook his head, "Landlord can't get an 'old of Meg. Best go and bail 'im out." He downed the last of his pint. "You coming?" Sam nodded reluctantly. "Well, it's only gone ten, I'm nowhere near me drinking limit so if we're going to go and play the Good Samaritans, we 'ave to go _now_."


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry for the delay folks - here's the next thrilling installment!!**

**London – May 1981**

The night before he had let Ted take him away, Gene had yelled at Daniel.

Not just a throwaway remark said in anger, but a torrent of abuse. Anger, frustration, pain…he had taken it all out on his defenceless baby son. It had started because of the lack of progress being made on the investigation. Everyone at the station was in a high state of anxiety, running on coffee and cigarettes, Gene more than most. During the day, he left Daniel with whoever he could but, the nights he went home, he took his son with him and that's when he found it most difficult. He was forty-three years of age with no experience of babies and no Meg.

Ted came round most evenings to help out with Daniel and to offer solidarity. The relationship between the two men was strained, but they put their differences aside for Daniel's sake. This night in particular, however, Ted had been held up, Daniel had been screaming and Gene hadn't known what to do. So, he had resorted to shouting at him, right in his little face, which only made Daniel cry harder. Then, he had lifted him out of his crib and…hadn't quite known what to do. He had been a few seconds away from shaking his son violently when the doorbell had rung and Ted had arrived. Standing holding his screaming son at arm's length, Gene had been terrified at what he might have done had he not come.

"Look, why don't I take 'im?" Ted had offered, shouting over Daniel's screams. "Leaves you free to focus on what's important. Finding out who killed my daughter." It had been an offer Gene couldn't refuse. Ted had immediately swept up all of the debris belonging to Daniel and taken it away. For the first time in weeks, Gene felt as though he could do his job. Felt as though he could breathe for the first time in weeks. But things never became easier. The investigation continued to slow down, the leads dried up and day after day he became more and more disheartened. What had been a twenty a day habit became forty a day. What had been a six tumbler a day habit became a bottle a day. Suddenly, and without warning, the photographs of the victims were taken down from the board, the files were shut and the whole sorry mess was put in a box marked 'unsolved.'

It was then that Gene should have reclaimed his son. But he didn't ask and Ted didn't offer. Being alone gave him the freedom to do what he wanted. Run the team as he always had. Be in the pub every night as before. Sleep with whomever he pleased. It didn't take long to forget his brief stint as a father.

"If 'e dies Bolly...I'll never forgive meself." The sound of his own voice surprised himself.

Alex looked over, also surprised that Gene had spoken. He had been uncharacteristically silent for most of the journey, keeping his gaze fixed on the passing lights, seemingly unwilling to enter into any conversation. She had driven on regardless, the silence like a gaping chasm between them. He didn't look at her.

"He won't," she replied.

"'e could be dead already."

"You can't think like that."

"We could get all the way up there and it could be too late."

"Gene…"

"Well it would be just desserts, wouldn't it?" he said, finally turning to look at her. "if it was too late." He heard his voice cracked and he looked away again, not wanting her to see the depth of his emotion.

Alex sighed, "As parents, we've all said and done things…"

"But I'm not 'is parent, am I? Ted is."

"You're his father."

"No. No I'm not." He shook his head at his own reflection in the window.

"I told you earlier that it's not too late to change things. You can still make it right if that's what you think you need to do."

"By doing what?" Gene snorted, "Bring 'im down to London to live with me? Take 'im to the Railway Arms after school?"

"No…"

"It's the next left." He interrupted her, bringing her train of thought to an end. She spent the next few minutes listening to his directions until they found themselves pulling into the car park at the hospital. Gene unclipped his seatbelt and let out a long sigh.

"You ok?" Alex asked quietly.

"Yeah," he got out of the car and started walking quickly towards the entrance to accident and emergency, Alex trailing in his wake. When he got inside, he walked up to the desk.

"Can I 'elp you?" the bored looking receptionist said.

"Yeah, me son was brought in a few hours ago," Gene explained, "Daniel Ryan?"

Before the receptionist could respond, Ted's voice came booming down the corridor, "Gene!" Gene turned quickly. "You came then," Ted observed walking towards him.

"You said it was an emergency," Gene said, ignoring the veiled meaning behind Ted's comment, "'ow is 'e? What 'appened?"

"'e's all right," Ted said, "Broken leg. They've plastered 'im up but they want to keep 'im in for a couple of days before letting 'im come 'ome."

"What 'appened?" Gene asked again.

"'e was 'it by a car," Ted replied, swallowing hard, "I was across the road, 'e ran over to me and…"

"So you weren't watching."

"Yes I bloody was!"

"Then 'ow did 'e get 'imself run over then?" Gene demanded, "'Aven't you taught 'im road safety?"

"If I 'adn't taken 'im off your hands when you asked me to, 'e wouldn't even be 'ere let alone worrying about bloody road safety!" Ted retorted.

"What the bloody 'ell is that supposed to mean?!" Gene advanced on him.

"Please!" Alex stepped between them, "Don't do this now. You're both here for Daniel because you both love him."

"I want to see 'im," Gene said, keeping his angry gaze locked on Ted's face.

"Fine," he replied, "last room at the end."

Gene pushed past Ted, making sure he deliberately bumped against him, and made his way down the corridor where Ted had pointed. As he approached the last room at the end, he felt his step falter. He hadn't seen Daniel in over a year. Would his son even recognise him? He stepped into the doorway and looked at the small figure lying in the bed opposite. Daniel's left leg was up in traction, he was wearing what looked like Superman pyjamas and his eyes were closed. Not wanting to wake him, Gene tiptoed to the chair at the side of the bed and slowly lowered himself into it, marvelling at how much his son had changed in such a short period of time.

He thought back over the last seven years, thought about everything that he had missed. When had Daniel changed from a screaming baby into the adorable little boy who was lying in front of him? The boy with the floppy blonde hair who, even in sleep, was the spitting image of his mother?

After approximately ten minutes of simply staring at his son, Gene saw Daniel's eyes flutter open. He took some time to focus, and his gaze slipped to Gene who smiled at him, "Hiya son." His voice caught on the second word.

Daniel looked at him for a long moment before speaking, "Daddy?"

"I'm 'ere," Gene said, "'ow you feeling?"

Daniel looked down at his leg, "Me leg 'urts."

"Yeah, it will do," Gene replied, glancing down at the large plaster cast, "It'll 'urt for a while."

"Granddad says I've got to stay in 'ere."

"Just for a while, so they can make sure you're going to be all right. Then you can go 'ome."

Are you going to take me down to London?"

Slightly taken aback, Gene didn't answer at first, "Well…erm…"

"Is Alex 'ere?" Daniel then went off at another tangent.

"Alex?"

"DI Drake. She came to see us. We 'ad ice-cream."

"Eh…yeah," Gene said, "Yeah she's outside."

"Can she come in?"

"Eh…sure, I can…I can ask 'er if you like?" Daniel nodded. "Ok." Gene got to his feet and stepped to the door of the room. At the end of the corridor, he could see Alex standing alone, reading notices on a board. As if sensing him watching her, she turned and he gestured for her to come up.

"What is it?" she asked when she reached the door.

"Someone wants to see you," he gestured inside. Alex stepped in and Daniel's face lit up.

"Alex!"

"Hello Danny," Alex said, walking over to the bed, "Gosh that looks sore! Was it?"

Daniel nodded, "I didn't see the car. I didn't look."

"Well, you'll know for next time, won't you?" she sat down on the chair recently vacated by Gene.

Daniel nodded again, "We were doing a topic on Romans."

The sudden change of conversation threw both Gene and Alex who exchanged glances. "Really?" the former said.

"I did a drawing. It's in me bag," Daniel gestured to the rucksack underneath the bed.

"Can I see it?" Gene asked.

"Yes."

Gene lifted the bag and started to unzip it. As Alex continued to talk, Gene looked through it. It contained the usual items that he would expect an eight year old to need for school but, tucked into an inside pocket, he saw the slightly crinkled edge of a photograph and, pulling it out, saw to his surprise that it was a photograph of Meg. She was holding Daniel in her arms and grinning at the camera. It had been taken shortly after he had been born.

"Mummy." He looked up and saw Daniel and Alex both looking at him.

"Yeah," he said, turning the photo around to show Alex, "it's your Mum." He put it back in the rucksack, "Didn't know you 'ad a picture of 'er."

"Granddad gave it to me, so I wouldn't forget 'er."

_Shit…_Gene felt tears prick at the corner of his eyes and he sniffed loudly to disguise it, "Yeah, well…"

"Everything all right in 'ere?" Ted appeared at the door.

"Fine," Gene said sharply.

"Good. Reckon Danny needs 'is rest now. Doc says they're going to be moving 'im up to the children's ward later on. It's late. Or early rather." He gestured to the door. "You should go."

"Oh should I?" Gene replied, "I don't think I should to be quite bloody honest!"

"Want to play Dad now do you?" Ted sneered, "After all this time?"

"Not in front of the boy!" Alex interrupted.

"You were the one who told me to come up 'ere!" Gene continued on regardless.

"Only because I knew there would be no way you'd enquire yourself as to 'ow 'e was!" Ted shot back.

"Stop it!" Alex said, getting to her feet. "This is achieving precisely nothing except showing the pair of you up as the overgrown schoolboys you are! Can't you see what you're doing?"

Gene looked over her shoulder and saw Danny's troubled face looking back at him, his blue eyes large and round in his head. "I'm not going back to London until I know 'e's going to be all right," he said in a low voice. "And I don't care what you think about that." The last remark was directed at Ted.

"It's a broken leg, not open 'eart surgery."

"I don't care. I may not 'ave been there before but I'm 'ere now and I'm _staying._"

Ted rolled his eyes, "Fine."

"Good."

"I need to be back in London tomorrow," Alex said as Ted walked over to the bed to talk to Danny, "PC Wallace?"

"Oh…yeah right," Gene said, having forgotten all about that in the midst of the last few hours. "Well, you can't go back down there now. You'd be lucky not to fall asleep at the wheel."

"I'm sure I can find a Travelodge."

"A what?"

"Oh…um…A Little Chef." The thought of pancakes and maple syrup made Alex's mouth water. "There must be one nearby." She looked at him. "What about you?"

"Told you I'm staying 'ere."

"When you said 'here' I assumed you meant Manchester not…here."

He fixed his gaze on her, "I meant 'ere, Bolly."

"Of course," she nodded. "I can pick you up in the morning if you like?"

Gene shook his head, "Take the car back to London. I'll be all right 'ere."

Alex stared at him, "Take the car?"

"Yes."

"Your car?"

"Yes."

"Back to London alone?"

"Are you deaf or something, Bolly? I said, take the bloody car!"

"Ok," Alex said before he could change his mind. "Ted, can I give you a lift anywhere?"

Ted looked at her, "Why?"

"Well I thought you might be tired. And you could show me where the nearest Little Chef is," Alex said.

Gene and Ted exchanged looks, the former adamant that he wasn't going to beg for time alone with his son. Ted seemed to sense this and, after a tense few seconds, nodded slowly, "All right." He turned back to Danny. "Your Dad'll stay with you 'ere. Is that all right son?" Danny nodded slowly. "Good. Well, I'll be back in the morning to make sure you're ok."

"'e'll be fine," Gene said encouragingly, "Won't you?" Danny nodded again.

Ted stepped up close to him so that Danny couldn't hear what he was about to say. "You'd better not let 'im down again, Gene. I mean it. Or you'll 'ave me to deal with." Gene bit back an angry retort. "Thank you, Alex," Ted said brightly, turning to her, "You can tell me how you're progressing with the case on the way." He stepped out of the room.

"Alex." She stopped and turned. "Thank you." For a brief moment, their eyes locked and a million unsaid words passed between them. Then, with a tight smile, she was gone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Sorry it's been so long guys. I've had some trouble arranging my thoughts and then my bedroom was getting decorated and the house was a tip...anyway, here's the next thrilling instalment!**

**Manchester - August 1973**

_"Meg!" The smoke was blinding, the air heavy, so much so that he could barely breathe. Could hardly find the voice to call her name. "Meg, where are you?!" He pushed on, not even sure where he was going. The geography of the house was lost to him in the choking darkness, the roaring of the flames in his ears, the heat from the fire warming his skin uncomfortably. His head was screaming that he should get out of the house, but his heart wouldn't let him. His pregnant girlfriend was trapped and he had to get to her. "Meg!" he screamed her name again before dissolving into a coughing fit. Peeling off his jacket, he put it over his head and ploughed on._

_Shapes swirled in front of him and he was able to make out the staircase. She would be upstairs in her room. There was only one way to reach it, but the fire was raging all around him. Suddenly, he felt arms go around him and someone was trying to pull him back towards the door. "Let go!" he shouted, although the sound barely carried above the noise of the fire. Instead, he struggled violently, lashing out with his arms and legs, landing blows that released him from the tight grip. He surged forward again, only to be grabbed once more and pulled backwards._

_Turning, he came face to face with a fireman wearing a mask. "Are you fucking insane?" his rescuer yelled at him, "Get the 'ell out of 'ere!"_

_"No!" Gene said, "I can't leave 'er! Meg!" He swung round again and once more pressed for the stairs. As he did so, however, there was a creaking sound from above and, looking up, he saw the flames gliding across the ceiling._

_"It's not safe!" the fireman yelled, "we 'ave to get out now!" _

_Again Gene refused and pushed on, his foot finding the first step. He couldn't lose her, not now, not after everything. He reached for the banister and drew his hand back quickly at the heat. He felt the pressure from behind lessen and turned to see what had happened to the fireman, when something hard struck him from above and darkness clouded over him…_

"You idiot…you stupid, stupid idiot…"

It was Meg's voice that woke Gene and as he dragged himself back to consciousness he felt the pressure of something on his head and realised that she was gently stroking his hair. Forcing open his swollen eyes, his gaze rested on her sat next to the hospital bed and he could tell that she had been crying. "Meg?"

She started, as if she hadn't meant for him to hear what she was saying and leant forward so that her face was inches from his, "Back in the land of the living then are we?" Her tone was sarcastic, but her voice wavered as she spoke. Gene made to reply, but found that his throat was raw and sore. "Don't try and talk," she urged him, "you inhaled quite a lot of smoke." She started stroking his hair again and let out a shuddering sigh, "Jesus, you scared the shit out of me."

His eyes were stinging and he screwed them shut, images flashing back into his mind. Going to the Pig and Carrot and collecting Ted, who had been so drunk he couldn't even stand. Taking him home and dumping him unceremoniously in the living room. Going home and feeling guilty about letting a friend down so badly. Driving back to the house and finding it ablaze. Hearing Ted chokingly tell him that he thought Meg was inside…"Your dad…" he managed to croak out.

"Fine," she replied, "thanks to the four firemen who managed to lift him out the 'ouse." She smiled as he opened his eyes again. "Wouldn't be surprised if they sue 'im for back injuries. 'e's in the next ward."

"Meg…"

"Don't," she interrupted him, bringing her face close to his again and brushing her lips against his. "Don't think about it."

"I thought…I thought you were inside…"

"I know."

"Ted said…"

"I know," her eyes filled with tears again, "stupid bastard. What part of 'I'm going back to me flat' doesn't 'e understand?" A small sob caused her to convulse slightly, "You shouldn't 'ave gone in there…I thought you were dead…"

Gene reached up and put a hand on the back of her neck, drawing her face down to rest against his shoulder. Her hair floated into his face and he breathed in the scent of lemons, tinged with smoke. He felt her lips, hot and moist against his neck, moving up and round until her mouth found his again and they shared a long passionate kiss.

"If this isn't a wake up call for 'im to give up the fags I don't know what is," Meg said, sniffing back her tears. "Especially considering 'e's going to 'ave to come stay with me now."

Gene shook his head, "No…"

"Gene, 'e's me dad. I can't see 'im stuck."

"You're coming to stay with me," he said. Meg frowned. "Where I can keep an eye on you."

"Gene…"

"No bloody arguments," he said, before dissolving into a coughing fit. Meg poured him a glass of water and helped him drink from it. When he was capable of speech again, his gaze shifted to her stomach, "The baby?"

"Baby's fine," she replied, rubbing her hand over her expanding stomach.

"Marry me."

Meg looked up quickly, "What?"

"You 'eard. Marry me. I can't trust you to look after yourself and that baby, and your old man certainly isn't in a position to."

"I can't."

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because…"

"Because what?"

Meg put her face in her hands, "I don't know! Because…" she shook her head.

"Do you love me? I mean, really love me?" He held his breath.

She met his gaze again, "Yes. You know I do."

He paused, wondering how best to persuade her. He took in her tired expression and quickly realised that now wasn't the time to push her. "You look knackered."

"Thanks a bunch."

"Go 'ome."

"I want to stay 'ere with you," she said, her brow creasing, "The nurses said it was all right."

"I say it isn't," he said firmly, "you need your rest, so go 'ome."

"But…"

"Megan Ryan, I bloody love you to death and I almost _did_ die tonight in a fruitless quest to save you from a burning 'ouse you weren't even in!" The absurdity of the whole situation wasn't lost on him, "Just go 'ome so that I know you're all right."

Meg nodded, her eyes wide, as if she had just had a telling off from the headmaster. "Ok." She left, peppering him with kisses before doing so, whispering that she loved him, despite everything that had happened, and promising that she would stop being a complete bitch. But she made no further reference to his proposal. After she had gone, he lay looking at the ceiling, thinking about everything and what a mess it all was.

A few hours later, after having pushed what the hospital called food around his plate for half an hour, he got out of bed and decided to go in search of Ted. Meg had said he was in the next ward and he found him in a bed by the door reading a newspaper and looking fairly chipper despite what had happened. When he saw Gene standing in the doorway, his eyes narrowed. "What do _you _want?"

"Came to see if you were all right," Gene replied, thrusting his hands in the pockets of the dressing gown he was wearing.

"Still alive," Ted replied looking back down at his paper. "More's the pity." The last three words were mumbled, but Gene still heard them.

"Trying to top yourself, were you?" he asked, sitting down in the chair next to the bed, "Set the fire deliberately?"

"Don't be so bloody stupid."

"Would you 'ave cared if they 'adn't 'ave pulled you out, Ted?" The other man didn't reply. "You can't go on like this, you know."

"Like what?"

"Drinking yourself into a stupor every night and burning your 'ouse down!"

"I'm sorry, I forgot you were teetotal," Ted replied sarcastically.

"Meg could 'ave been in that 'ouse," Gene said, reining in his anger as best he could.

Ted had the good grace to at least look shame-faced, "I know."

"You thought she was."

"I know."

"I went in there, thinking that she was trapped inside!"

"Well good for you!" Ted mocked, "We can add 'ero to your list of lifetime accomplishments."

"If anything 'ad 'appened to Meg…"

"What?" Ted cut him off, "What would you 'ave done, Gene? Beat me up? Do me in? She's my _daughter!"_

"And she's going to be my wife, so I want you to…"

"Wife?!" Ted guffawed loudly, "That's a good one! Meg would never marry _you_!"

"Says who?"

"Says me! She's got more sense in 'er 'ead than to tie 'erself to you til death do you part," Ted snorted, "Baby or no baby."

It suddenly dawned on Gene what was at the root of Ted's anger, his bitterness, his pain. "You don't want Meg to be 'appy, do you? You don't want 'er to be with me because that would mean 'er leaving you."

"Give over."

"No I reckon I'm on to summat 'ere," Gene pressed on, "As long as you keep drinking yourself to death, she'll 'ave to be there. Coming down the Pig and Carrot and carrying you 'ome, doing your washing and your cooking and your cleaning… You've lost a wife so you want to 'ang on to Meg as long as you possibly can."

"Shut up!"

"Well it's too late, Ted. She's a grown woman and in a few months time, she's going to be a mother. To _my _child. And she's going to be _my _wife. Now, you can be a part of that if you want or you can sit around and pour whisky down your throat til the cows come 'ome, but you are _not _going to trap 'er, do you understand me?"

Ted looked at him and Gene saw raw emotion in the other man's eyes. "You don't understand," he said in a low voice, "Meg…she's all I've got left."

Gene shook his head, "You 'ave to let 'er go."

"No."

"She loves me and I love 'er. I'll make 'er 'appy."

"No you won't," Ted said, rubbing his eyes viciously, "I know you Gene Hunt. A different woman every weekend. Every night down the boozer. You're no better than me. You'd quite like Meg to be at 'ome cooking your tea and warming your bed, but you don't want 'er for anything more than that. You don't even want this baby. My grandchild."

"You're wrong."

"Really?" Ted looked at him, "well, we'll see. Take her to live with you. Marry 'er if you want, I won't stand in your way. But mark my words, I don't reckon you'll last a year. If you 'aven't lost 'er by this time next year, I'll eat my 'at."

**Manchester – May 1981**

"_If you 'aven't lost 'er by this time next year, I'll eat my 'at…"_

"I wonder if you remember how right you were, Ted," Gene mumbled as he sat next to Daniel's bed, gently stroking his son's hair, the way Meg had done that night. He had fallen asleep shortly after Ted and Alex had left, waking only briefly as he had been moved to the Childrens' Ward then quickly slipping away again.

In the days following his release from hospital, Gene had moved Meg into his house. She had continued to protest, but had eventually given in to keep him happy. She was worried about Ted and was only satisfied when he agreed to take her room at the flat she had recently vacated. Sandra had moved out into a place of her own, so Ted would have the entire flat to himself.

It took a while, getting used to being with Meg twenty-four-seven. All day at work and then at home at night. Arguments they would have at the station they tried hard not to bring home with them, but it was difficult to separate the two and in those first few months, Gene had spent many a night cast out from his own bed and onto the sofa.

He hadn't raised the issue of marriage again and Meg had never made reference to it. Perhaps it wouldn't really matter, but he wanted his child to have his name. He wanted Meg to have his name too, but for some unfathomable reason, she remained reluctant. It confused him, as it wasn't as if she had seen an unhappy portrayal of marriage from her parents. Ted and Catherine had been devoted to each other.

Meg had continued to grow bigger and at six months, looked as if she was ready to drop right there and then. She grew moodier, snapping constantly at him and anyone else within striking distance. She was bored, being stuck in the station all the time and not even allowed into an interrogation. Not even with Sam where she had said, "But there won't be any violence if 'e's doing it." He would watch her from his office. Watch her moving around the room, every so often, her hand straying to her bump. His child. Their child. At night, she would snipe at him, wanting a reaction from him, wanting something to liven up her otherwise boredom filled day.

One night, she yelled at him that she had made the biggest mistake of her life ever getting involved with a great sweaty, arrogant bastard like him. The argument had escalated until Gene had gone to the pub simply to get some peace. When he came home, he found she had locked the bedroom door and so he wearily made for the sofa. Some time, in the middle of the night, she had clearly regretted her actions, because she came into the living room, woke him, and led him back to the bedroom where they made slow, gentle love, Gene trying to be mindful of the precious life inside of her.

The precious life he now couldn't take his eyes off.

"Gene? Gene?"

He felt someone shaking him gently, someone saying his name and for a moment, forgot where he was, "Meg?" He opened his eyes and found himself looking into Alex's sympathetic face. "Bolly. I must 'ave fallen asleep."

"Morning," she said quietly. Gene looked at Daniel, who was still sleeping. "I thought I'd drop by before heading back to London. How is he?"

"Fine," Gene replied, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"Are you going to stay?"

He nodded, "As long as it takes."

"Well, Ted will be back later. Try and not get into a fistfight in front of the other children." A smile pulled at the corner of her mouth.

"I'll do my best," he replied, giving her a small smile in return.

"I should be back in London by this afternoon," she continued, "I'll go and speak to Derek Wallace. See if he can shed any light on anything."

Gen nodded, "Ok."

"Ok," Alex said, straightening up, "Well…I'll go then."

"Ok," he said again.

Alex paused for a long moment, "Gene…"

At that moment, however, Daniel stirred and Gene's attention was drawn back to his son, "All right mate," he said softly, "You ok?"

Alex backed away from the bed, "I'll let you know what I find out."

"Ok," Gene replied, never turning from his son, "Be careful with my car, Bolly." He fussed over Daniel for a few more moments, getting him a drink of juice before turning to the spot where Alex had been and finding her gone. It was probably for the best, he told himself. He was barely equipped to be a father to his son. Being a lover to another woman was probably too much to cope with right now. He turned back to Daniel who was watching him, wide-eyed. That familiar look. The look of his mother.


	15. Chapter 15

**London – May 1981**

As Alex drove back to London, she found her mind filled with thoughts of Gene. She couldn't believe the transformation in him since they had been in Manchester. The gruff, irascible man had become a gentle and loving father, clearly devoted to Daniel, despite all evidence to the contrary. She had truly seen a different side to him, a side that she had to admit she found very attractive.

The events of the last few days had overshadowed what had happened in Luigi's that night. She could still remember the feeling of his hand on hers, the tightness of her chest and the pulsation in her head and her groin…A car horn beeped loudly and Alex suddenly realised she was in danger of veering into the outside lane. She shook herself violently, trying to focus on the job ahead, that of speaking to Derek Wallace.

By the time she arrived back in London it was almost three o'clock. Glancing at the address she had for Wallace, Alex manouevered her way through the busy streets until she found herself pulling up outside a small terraced house. It looked well cared for, with flowers in neat rows in the garden and a hanging basket at the door. Not exactly the typical residence of a single policeman.

Walking up the path, Alex couldn't help thinking how quiet the place was. There were hardly any cars passing, no children screaming and playing. The air was so still, as if the world was holding its breath. She pressed the doorbell twice in two bursts and waited. A few moments later, the door opened and Derek Wallace was standing in front of her, a dish cloth in his hand. "Can I 'elp you?" he asked.

"PC Derek Wallace?" Alex fished for her warrant card, "DI Alex Drake."

"Ah yes, Gene Hunt's new DI," Derek smiled. "I've seen you about the station but we've never really 'ad a chance to chat."

"Uh…no…we haven't," Alex replied. "I was hoping I might be able to speak to you about these recent murders."

Derek's smile dropped, "The four women?" Alex nodded, "I'm not involved in that investigation."

"No, I know, but it's come to light that all the victims came and reported instances of theft shortly before they disappeared." She waited for him to admit the connection, but instead, he merely kept looking at her. "You took all four crime reports."

Derek nodded slowly, "Yes…yes I did…"

"Do you mind if I come in and talk to you about it? Perhaps you might have seen something on those days that might help us out."

"Oh, oh yes of course," Derek stepped back, "please, come in."

"Thank you." Alex stepped through the door into a rather dark hallway and, following instinct, walked down it until it opened into a small living room.

"Give me a moment," Derek said from behind her, "I've just got to turn the oven off." He disappeared through another door, leaving Alex some time to look around the living room. It was fairly sparely furnished with no real evidence of creature comforts. Her attention was, however, drawn to a collection of photographs situated on the coffee table.

Walking over, she recognised a picture of his mother, the woman she had met in Manchester, and another picture of a small boy and a very tall man. Presumably, Derek and his father. She also caught sight of a third photograph at the back. Lifting it, she saw that it was a picture taken in a park. Derek was standing with his arm around Meg. She was wearing the same clothes that she had on in the picture Alex had first seen of her in Gene's desk.

"Megan," Derek said from behind, causing her to jump. "She was my friend when I worked in Manchester."

"She died," Alex said.

Derek nodded, "Very sad."

"I spoke to your mother," Alex said, "she said that you visit Meg's grave when you're back home."

"I like to go there and remember her."

"I've just come back from Manchester," Alex explained, "DCI Hunt and I went to see his son."

At this, Derek started. "His son?"

"Yes, Daniel. Have you ever seen him? He looks very like Meg."

Derek blushed, "No. I thought you wanted to talk about the women who had died?"

"Yes, yes I do," Alex pulled out her notebook. "Angie, Laura, Liz and Pauline. Can you remember much about them?"

"Not really," Derek said, sitting down in the easy chair and motioning for her to sit down also. "I do a lot of crime reports, so it wasn't anything special."

"But when you knew they'd been murdered…"

"Yeah, it was a little odd…" he trailed off.

"More than a little odd, surely?"

"No, just a little odd." His tone was sharp.

Alex nodded slowly, "Ok. Do you remember anything particular about the days they came in to see you? Did anything happen at the station on those days? Can you remember if there was anyone else there on all four days?"

"No, no and no," Derek replied. He squinted at her, "I really don't think I can help you."

"Perhaps not."

"You're getting close though."

Alex looked at him, "I'm sorry?"

"You're getting close though, aren't you?"

Something in his voice was beginning to make Alex rather nervous. "I still have some digging to do," she replied, standing up, "perhaps we could chat again sometime? Maybe you'll have remembered more."

"Doubtful, but of course, any time."

"Can I use your bathroom before I leave?" Alex asked.

"Of course," Derek replied, smiling again, "Down the corridor to the right."

Alex followed his directions and found a fairly standard bathroom. After freshening up, she was making her way back to the living room when she noticed another door standing ajar. Fuelled by curiosity, she pushed the door open and drew in a sudden sharp breath. It was a small room, clearly meant to be a second bedroom or a study, but there was no furniture in it. Instead, the walls were adorned with newspaper clippings and photographs. She recognised pictures of the four women murdered in the last few months on one wall and, on another, the Manchester victims. But what surprised her more than anything, was that one entire wall was devoted to Meg.

Feeling her chest tighten, Alex turned to leave the room, only to feel a sharp pain in her head and then darkness.

**Manchester – December 1973**

"I want to move out after Christmas."

Gene paused, fork halfway to mouth and looked at Meg who was leaning against the kitchen counter, her hands over her bump. "You what?"

"I said, I want to move out after Christmas," she repeated. "I can't live 'ere any more Gene, it's driving me bonkers."

"What's driving you bonkers?" he demanded, putting his fork down and pushing the plate of sausage and mash away from him.

"You! This! Everything!" She waved her arms around the kitchen, "I can't…I mean I'm not…oh I don't know what I mean, but I just can't stay 'ere anymore."

"But…" he fought for something to say, "but you're seven months pregnant."

"Yeah I 'ad realised that," she replied sarcastically, sitting down in the opposite kitchen chair, "but I'm starting to feel…I don't know…trapped. Trapped in some nightmare of bloody domesticity. I'm living 'ere like some 'ousewife, making your tea and washing and ironing your clothes and…before long I'm going to be up to me eyeballs in dirty nappies and…" she put her head in her hands, "I just don't think I can do it."

Gene didn't say anything for a long time. Instead, he just looked at her sitting across from him, looking every little one of her twenty-three years. "I thought this was what you wanted."

"No, it's what _you _wanted," Meg said, lifting her face to meet his gaze, "You forced me to move in with you after the fire…"

"I didn't drag you by the bloody 'air!"

"I know that…"

"So, 'ow come it's all my fault then?"

"I didn't say it was your fault, I just said that…"

"Well that's what it sounded like!"

"See! See, this is what I mean!" Meg started to cry. "Now we're arguing like…like an old married couple!"

"Well I'm sorry I make you so unhappy!" He didn't wait to hear her response. Grabbing his wallet and his jacket, he stormed out of the house, slamming the door hard behind him. Then he got into the car and drove to the Railway Arms where he knew the rest of the team were having a Christmas drink and which he had forgone because he wanted to be with Meg. As soon as he stepped into the pub, he felt at ease.

"A'right Guv," Ray said when he saw him, "Thought we'd lost you to the lovely Megan."

"Not a chance Raymondo!" Gene replied, "Whose round is it?"

"Where's Meg?" Sam asked, appearing at his elbow.

"At 'ome, where do you think she is?" he replied sourly.

"I thought you wanted to spend the evening with 'er."

"I did, until she decided she wanted to 'ave a row. Can't be doing with it, Sam," Gene downed the whisky Ray put in front of him in one. "Bloody women."

"You left 'er by 'erself then."

"She's bloody pregnant Tyler, not struck down with the plague. I think she'll manage."

"What did you row about?"

"I don't want to talk about it," Gene said, putting an end to the conversation. Instead, he proceeded to get himself incredibly drunk. So much so, then when a comely blonde who had been hanging on the periphery of the conversation for the evening, linked her arm in his and asked if the gallant policeman could see her home, Gene didn't refuse.

"It's not often a nice copper walks me to me door," she said flirtatiously as they staggered up the path together.

"Can't be too careful," Gene slurred, "You got your key?"

The woman, whose name he hadn't bothered to ask, nodded and fished around in her bag. Producing the key, she slid it into the lock and opened the door. They stumbled inside and when she turned on the light, it made him screw up his eyes. He didn't have much time to comment on this though. Quick as a flash, she was on him, her body pressed close to him, her red-stained lips on his mouth, her hands wandering to places that hadn't been touched for some time.

He knew he should say no, knew he should remember what he had. But then, he had to wonder if he really did have it? Meg wanted to move out. It was hardly the action of someone who was supposed to love him. Why the hell shouldn't he have a little fun? It was Christmas after all.

So, he slept with her, revelled in the soft body with the flat stomach. She was a vocal lover and for a few sweet moments, Gene forgot everything else that was going on his life and focused only on the giving and receiving of exquisite pleasure.

When it was over and he woke hours later, with a pounding headache, surrounded by the cloying scent of cheap perfume, the guilt hit him like the number 27 bus. Squinting at the clock on the bedside table, he saw that it was just gone five am. There was still time to get back to his place and let Meg believe he had been out drinking all this time. Leaving without waking his conquest was the first challenge. Once completed, he found himself in the deserted street, walking slowly back towards where he had left his car, his feet sliding on the early morning frost.

As he pulled up in front of the house, he was surprised to see lights on and the front door open. Ted's car was also parked outside. Fear instantly struck him. _The baby…_Jumping out of the car, he hurried up the path and into the house. "Meg! Megan!" He found her in the kitchen, sitting at the table, her coat on, a suitcase at her feet. "What the 'ell…?"

"I saw you," she said, "I came down to the pub to say sorry and I _saw _you." Her eyes were red-rimmed but dry. Hours of crying clearly replaced by anger. "'Ow could you Gene?"

"I don't know…" Lying was the first choice, but looking at her, he knew he couldn't. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" she looked at him incredulously, "You're sorry? Sorry you went 'ome with some cheap little tart? You bastard. You think _sorry_ makes it all right?" Meg got to her feet, "You think I should forgive you because you say sorry?" She stepped towards him. "You bastard!"

Her hurt, her pain, hurt him more than he could ever admit. "Meg…"

"Bastard!" Moving extremely quickly for being so heavily pregnant, Meg landed a stinging blow to the side of his face, causing him to stumble backwards. "Bastard, bastard, bastard!" She came at him, raining blows down on him, blows that, rather surprisingly, hurt.

"Meg, stop!" The next thing Gene knew, Ted was there, his arms around his daughter, pulling her away from him, "'e's not worth it, Meg. Stop it! Think of the baby!"

"Bastard…" Meg sobbed again as she was dragged backwards.

"Come on," Ted said soothingly, "come on, go and wait in the car."

"I 'ate you…" Meg said, her comments still directed at Gene, "I 'ate you, I 'ate you, I 'ate you…I wish I'd never let you near me…" Ted dragged her out of the kitchen towards the front door.

Gene followed them, "Meg…"

"Go on, sweetheart," Ted said, "get into the car. I'll be there in a minute." With a final look of pure anguish, Meg turned and left the house. Gene made to follow, but Ted blocked his path, "Oh no you bloody don't. You're lucky I don't beat the living shit out of you right now. Meg called me after she saw you and I've spent the last five hours trying to calm 'er down!"

"Look Ted, it was a mistake. I was drunk…please…" _Please God let me erase tonight and start over again._

"No," Ted said, "no _please, _no _sorry_…it's over Gene. It's finally over, thank God! I've put up with you spoiling my little girl, getting her pregnant and moving 'er into your 'ouse, but if you think for a second I'm going to sit back while you keep 'er in your 'ouse while you go off shagging 'alf of Manchester you can bloody well think again. That's it. It's over. Finished."

"That's for Meg to decide, not you!" Gene pushed past him and hurried down the path to the car where he wrenched open the passenger door. Meg looked up at him white-faced. "Get out."

"Don't," she said, "please…"

"Get out the car, Meg!"

"Get away from 'er!" Ted appeared behind him and grabbed Gene, pulling him away from the car. Gene twisted in his grip and punched Ted squarely in the face.

"No!" He heard Meg scream and the next moment she had pushed past him and ran to where Ted was lying winded on the pavement, "Dad! Dad, are you all right?" She turned and glared at him, "What are you trying to do?!"

"'e's got no right interfering in our relationship!" Gene said, "Can't you see what 'e's doing?"

"You did this!" She yelled at him, "You did all of it!" By this time Ted was on his feet.

"See what I mean, Meg?" he said, "This is the real Gene Hunt. You can't risk it. You don't want to be with a man who not only cheats on you, but is capable of violence as well. You can't risk that in your condition."

"You bastard!" Gene shouted, "You know I would never lay a finger on 'er!" He advanced towards Ted but Meg got in between. She held her hand up, keeping him back.

"Just let me go, Gene, ok? Just…just leave it…we've all said and done things…just leave it…" She slid past him back to the passenger side and, once inside, made to close the door.

Gene grabbed it, "Meg, don't go. Please, you 'ave to listen to me…"

"Later," she said, "not now. Later." She tried to close the door but he still held it. "Let go of the door, Gene." Reluctantly, he did what she asked. She closed the door and seconds later, the car was moving down the street away from him.


	16. Chapter 16

**Manchester – December 1973**

Gene was sick of Christmas music, sick of Christmas adverts on the television, sick of everything to do with Christmas. He hadn't bothered to put up the Christmas tree that Meg had insisted they buy over three months ago. Any Christmas cards he had received lay unopened on the living room table.

"Bah humbug," he would say as another one popped through the letterbox.

Everywhere, the city was in full festive mode, even at the station. There were only another five days until Christmas and if he had to listen to one more person describing what they were doing for Christmas he would scream. He already knew that Chris was going to his Mum and Dad's where they would all get drunk and argue over party games. Ray was planning on having a quiet one with his new girlfriend and as for Sam…well he hadn't said too much about anything.

As for Gene, he didn't quite know what he was going to do. Two weeks earlier, it would have been him and Meg and most likely Ted along for the ride too. It wouldn't have been ideal but it would have been the closest family Christmas he had had in a long time. Now all that was gone, thanks to one stupid mistake.

"Guv?" Sam broke into his thoughts, "Uniform 'ave found the mother. She's on the way down."

"About bloody time," Gene said, tossing his empty coffee cup in the bin. "Maybe she can talk some sense into this idiot." He walked to the door of the newsagents and looked across the road. "Any movement?"

"Not for a few minutes."

"Any idea about the kids?"

"Still no sign of them."

Gene lit a cigarette and took a long drag, "Bloody fathers." He stepped outside into the street where snow was beginning to fall and walked over to what Sam had called the edge of the cordon. Lights twinkled in the toy shop opposite, but inside, a desperate father was holding his two young children at gunpoint. "Give me that thing." He grabbed the megaphone from Sam. "Tom! Tom, can you 'ear me?" There was no response, "If you can 'ear me, let me know." Again, nothing. "We should just all go 'ome and leave 'im 'ere," Gene said, ''e's bound to get bored sooner or later."

"That's a great idea," Sam replied sarcastically, "Why didn't I think of that one?"

"Well 'ave you got a better idea?" Gene retorted.

"Yeah, let the mother get 'ere and see what she can do."

"Probably just wind 'im up into shooting 'em." Gene turned and, as he did, he caught sight of a familiar face standing at the edge of the gathering crowd. Thrusting the megaphone back at Sam, he tossed his cigarette onto the ground and made his way over, ducking under the police tape as he did so.

"I 'eard on the news," Meg said when he reached her, "Figured you'd be down 'ere."

"Yeah well, hostage negotiations are my strong suit," Gene replied.

"You mean they're Sam's strong suit," she smiled.

"Behind every great negotiator and all that."

She glanced behind him at the store front, "Is it true then? A father and his two kids?" Gene nodded. "Why?"

"Split up from the mother and she doesn't want 'im to see the kids over Christmas," he said, his eyes dropping to her stomach. "Can't blame the poor bloke."

"No, you can't."

"What are you doing 'ere?" he asked her. "Shouldn't you be at 'ome? Feet up, drinking 'ot cocoa?"

"I thought I might be able to 'elp."

"By doing what? Pinning the bloke to the ground?" Meg looked down. "You got bigger."

She put her hand over her stomach, still noticeable under her thick coat. "Seems to be sprouting every day. 'e's going to come out six foot four like 'is dad." She met his gaze. "'ow are you?"

"Fine."

"I meant, 'ow are you really?"

"I'm really fine."

"Gene…"

"Ted said everything that needed to be said," he interrupted her, "You 'aven't come round, you 'aven't answered any of my phone calls…I've said I'm sorry but…"

"I know."

"You don't want to know, so what do you expect me to do?" Meg opened her mouth as if to respond, but shivered violently instead. Gene's protective instincts went into overdrive. "You must be frozen. Get yourself into the shop." He lifted the police tape and motioned for her to step under.

"I don't want to get in the way," she protested.

"Just get in 'ere!" he demanded. She did what he asked and he put one hand under the elbow, guiding her towards the newsagents. Once inside, he barked at the owner to bring a chair and sat her down next to the newspapers. "Sit there."

"I'm not a dog, you know," Meg replied, her eyes flashing angrily. "Just because I'm seven months pregnant doesn't mean I couldn't lamp you one!"

"Guv!" Sam hurried inside, "Guv the…oh, hiya Meg."

"Sam."

"The mother's 'ere," he turned back to Gene. "She's in a bit of state."

"As well she might be," he mumbled. "Can I trust you to sit 'ere and not move?"

"Don't 'ave much choice, do I?" Meg replied.

"Good," he turned and followed Sam back outside to where a petite dark-haired woman was standing with Annie. "Right then, and you are?"

"Maggie Wilson," the woman replied. "Peter and Susan's mother. What the 'ell's going on 'ere?"

"What's going on is that your 'usband 'as your kiddies in that shop with a gun," Gene told her. She crossed herself quickly, "Now I'm freezing my arse off out 'ere, as are my officers, so I want this finished asap, comprende?"

Maggie frowned, "And you expect me to do what?"

"Talk to 'im," Sam said, "see if you can get 'im to give 'imself up."

She looked doubtful, "I don't think 'e'll listen to me," she said, "we're not exactly getting on at the moment."

"These are your little bastards that are in that shop," Gene said, "do you want 'em back for Christmas or not?" Maggie nodded, "I thought so. Sam, do your stuff."

"Ok Maggie," Sam said, "I'm going to walk you over to the door…" Gene tuned out as he moved sideways to get a better view of the door of the shop. He watched as Sam led Maggie as near the shop as he dared and passed her the megaphone. He listened as she shouted her husband's name, willing him to come to the door, begging him to let the children go.

After what seemed like an eternity, the door to the shop opened and two young children ran as fast as they could across the street towards their mother. Maggie threw down the megaphone and scooped them up into her arms, holding them tightly to her and crying noisily. Applause erupted from the crowd, but it quickly died when the shop door opened again and Tom appeared, the gun pressed to his own head.

"No, no, no!" Gene hurried forward before Sam could open his mouth. "No Tom. That isn't the answer!"

"I don't 'ave anything left!" Tom sobbed, "She's got me kids! I 'aven't got anything left!"

"Do you want your kids to see you do this to yourself?" Gene asked, "Is that what you want? For your kids to know you topped yourself, at Christmas, in the street? Don't make them live with that memory, Tom."

Sam stepped beside him, "For once, my boss is right, Tom. This isn't the answer."

Tom was shaking, "Do you 'ave kids?"

Sam shook his head, "No."

He turned to Gene, "You?"

Gene swallowed hard, "Not yet."

"Then you don't know. You don't know what it's like to be kept from your kids! To know that another man's going to be bringing them up. Taking them to school, reading them stories…you don't know!"

"Maybe not," Sam agreed, "but if you love your kids, Tom, you won't do this to them. Parents separate all the time. That doesn't mean you stop being there for them. That's what you'll do if you kill yourself."

Gene was holding his breath, hoping against all hope that they weren't going to be washing this man's blood off the pavement. Slowly, Tom lowered the gun from his head and eventually dropped it onto the pavement. Officers immediately ran at him, putting him on the ground and handcuffing him.

Sam turned to Gene, "For a minute there…"

"I know," Gene replied, and he did.

"Well done."

Gene turned and saw Meg standing at the door of the newsagents. "Yeah, well…" he sniffed, "Sam did most of the work."

"Modest to the very end, eh Gene?" she joked walking forward to stand in front of him. "You've got snow in your hair." She reached up and started to brush it away causing shivers to course through his body. Then she let her hand rest on his cheek. He held her gaze, wondering what she was thinking, what she was feeling. Whether it was the same as what he was. "Was she better than me?"

He was slightly taken aback, "What?"

"That woman. Was she better than me in bed?"

He pushed her hand away, "Course she bloody wasn't!"

"Then what then?" Meg asked, her face determined, "What was it about 'er? What was it about 'er that made you want to do it?"

"I was drunk!" he told her, "I don't remember 'alf of what I said and did that night!" He took a deep breath, "Look, if I could go back and change it, I would. But I can't. But you're not exactly blameless either!"

"Me?" she squeaked.

"You said you wanted to move out. That I was suffocating you! 'Ow do you think that made me feel?"

Meg didn't reply at first. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Well then." He was surprised how easily she capitulated. He watched her, looking at the ground, tracing an unidentifiable shape in the snow with her boot. "Look, I love you," he sighed, "and I…"

"Dad's been offered a job in Scotland," she said suddenly.

"What?"

"Glasgow. 'E wants me to go with 'im. 'Ave the baby up there. Live there with 'im." She kept her eyes on the ground. "I think it would be good for 'im. A fresh start, away from Mum's memory. Might even 'elp 'im with 'is drinking."

Gene stared at her open-mouthed, "Glasgow?" She nodded. "Is that what you want?" Meg shrugged. He stepped forward and grabbed her by the shoulders, forcing her to look at him, "Is that what you want?"

"I don't know," she replied, tears forming in her eyes, "I'm so confused right now, Gene….I don't know what to do about anything…"

He was torn between holding her close and pushing her away. He chose the latter. "Well, if you want me to 'ave any part in your life or the baby's, you can let me know." Then, he walked away from her, and purposefully didn't look back.

**Manchester – May 1981**

"I reckon this young man can go 'ome tomorrow."

Gene looked at the doctor who was smiling down at Daniel. "Really?"

He nodded, "Everything seems to be setting all right. No point in keeping 'im in 'ere when 'e could be at 'ome."

Ted let out a sigh of relief, "Thank God for that.

"One more night, just to be sure," the doctor said, "then we'll 'ave 'im back in in a few weeks time and see how things are going. I bet you're really upset to be missing school."

Daniel laughed, "No."

When the doctor had gone, Ted perched on the end of his grandson's bed, "It'll be good to get 'ome, won't it Danny? Back to your own room, eh?"

Daniel nodded, his gaze sliding to Gene, who was standing at the end of the bed, "Can Dad come?"

"What, live with you two?" Gene joked, "Don't reckon I'd be able to put up with the pair of you."

"Your dad's got important work to do back in London, Danny," Ted explained, "I'm sure 'e'll be 'eading back down there as soon as 'e can."

"I'll wait until 'e's released," Gene said, "Make sure you get 'ome all right."

"I can manage."

"I wasn't suggesting for a second you couldn't, Ted."

Ted stood up and motioned for Gene to follow him out of the ward and into the corridor. "Look, I appreciate your being 'ere, I really do. But you don't 'ave to stay any longer."

"'e's me son, Ted."

"I'm well aware of that Gene but…"

"Maybe it's time I 'ad a proper relationship with 'im." Gene looked his friend square in the face, "Maybe it's time Danny came 'ome with me."

"To London?" Ted raised his eyebrows in disbelief, "I don't think so."

"I'm 'is father. I've got rights…"

"You gave those up seven years ago, Gene. Look, I'm 'appy for you to come and see 'im a bit more often than you 'ave done. And maybe 'e could come down and stay with you from time to time. But 'e's settled up 'ere. 'e's got friends. You must see 'ow much better it is for 'im."

Gene didn't say anything. He had no real argument as to why Daniel should be with him, other than that he should. Flesh and blood meant nothing when it came to the fact that Daniel had been raised by Ted all those years. "Ted…Meg was your daughter. I know you wish more than anything that you'd 'ad more time with 'er. Can't you see that's what I want for me and Danny?"

Ted's face darkened, "You've still got a killer to catch, Gene. Maybe once that's over…maybe we can talk about…"

"Excuse me?" A homely looking nurse interrupted them. "DCI Hunt?"

"What?" Gene snapped, irritated by the interruption.

"There's a phone call for you at reception."

Sighing with frustration, Gene followed her back down the corridor to reception where he snatched up the receiver. "Yes?"

"Guv, it's Ray."

"What is it?"

"When did you last see your car?"

"I gave it to DI Drake to come back to London, why?" Gene rubbed his head, feeling the beginning of a headache.

"Well it's just that…"

"It's just that _what_?" Gene demanded, "If she's scratched it…"

"No, it's…well…it's been found."

"Found? Found where?"

"Waste ground. About four miles from the nick."


	17. Chapter 17

**And like a train we're chugging on towards the end! I reckon only a few more chapters to go!!**

**London – May 1981**

When Alex opened her eyes, she found that she couldn't see anything. Not one chink of light. Her head was throbbing and her body lay in an awkward and unnatural position. Her wrists were tied behind her back and she could feel the dampness from the floor underneath her. She blinked a few times, trying to get her eyes to focus in the darkness until, eventually, she began to make out light and shade, the outline of objects and attempted to work out where she was.

She remembered nothing since she had turned around and seen Derek Wallace standing behind her. Nothing since the blow on the head had rendered her unconscious. Nothing, until this very moment. As best as she could, she pushed herself up into a seated position and then tried to work out how to get her hands round in front of her. They were so tightly bound, however, that her first thought of bringing them up and under her feet didn't work. Exhausted from the physical evidence, she looked around, trying to see if there was anything she could use to help her. The room where she was, was definitely outdoors and from the smell, she guessed it was either a garden shed or a garage. Running her fingers along the concrete floor, she picked up a greasy residue, but had no idea what it was.

As her eyes grew more accustomed to the light, she could pick out various objects hanging around her prison. She identified a spade and a hammer, both potentially useful if she could find a way to reach them. Pausing for thought, her mind latched onto the unspeakable truth. The truth she had realised as soon as she had seen that room. Wallace was the killer. He had to be. There was no other explanation. The photographs of the victims, not to mention the shrine to Meg…Alex shivered with a mixture of fear and cold.

Pushing herself forward onto her knees, Alex raised herself up onto her feet, swaying slightly as she did so. She could feel something hot trickling down the side of her face and realised she must be bleeding from the wound. Stumbling forward slightly, she walked around the edge of the room, trying to locate a door or a window. The first time, she found nothing, and only received several bumps and bruises for her trouble. The second time, her arm hit something heavy and metallic which, upon turning her back and feeling with her fingers, Alex realised was a padlock.

"Locked from the inside?" she mused, "but how…?" She reached up as far as she could in her awkward position and felt her cold iron of a bolt. Grabbing the small handle, she pulled as hard as she could, but the lock prevented it from moving. "Why would it be…?" It made no sense.

She took another tour of the room, using her hands to feel along the walls, stopping when she felt some sort of canvas, nailed in place. Turning, she used her face to feel the edge and, using her teeth, tried to pull it back. It hurt her mouth like hell, but after a few attempts, it began to give way, suddenly letting in a chink of light. Spurred on, she kept pulling, until one half of the canvas tore away from the nails, revealing a grubby window. Pressing her face up against it, Alex found herself looking out onto a vegetable patch and, in the distance, other structures.

"An allotment," she said to herself, "but how…?" Before she could finish her thought, she heard the sound of footsteps approaching the door. Hurrying back to the far wall, she waited, her breath coming quickly, as there was the sound of a key in lock. To her surprise, the door where she had found the padlock did not open, but another door, a few metres away opened instead, instantly letting in the light. Squinting, she made out a figure standing in the doorway.

"Come out, come out wherever you are," he said in a sing-song voice and she realised that he couldn't see her. She held her breath. "Where are you DI Drake?" he asked, slightly less patiently. He stepped into the room and Alex wondered if there was any chance of getting past him and making good her escape. Her thought, however, was short-lived. "There you are." He had seen her.

Alex grasped behind her, wondering if there was anything she could use as a weapon and indeed use well given the current state of her arms. Her fingers closed around something which felt decidedly like a crowbar and she gripped it tightly as he came towards her.

"Come on now Alex," he said, "there's no point in hiding now, is there?" He was getting closer to her, "There's nowhere to go." He was right in front of her, so close she could smell his breath. "Now, I do hope you're not going to be difficult."

In that instance, Alex brought her knee up, hard, between his legs, causing him to let out a cry and pitch forward. Then she swung her body round, using as much force as possible, and caught him across the face with the crowbar. As he howled in pain, she pushed past him, making for the light at the door. Before she could reach it, she felt someone grab her leg and she fell forward, cracking her head off of the hard floor. She saw stars dancing in front of her eyes and the pain was incredible. Then she felt herself being rolled onto her back and Wallace kneeling over her.

"That was naughty, Alex," he told her, "It would have been so much easier if you hadn't put up a fight." She felt his fingers on the buttons of her blouse. "I promise you, you'll enjoy it. All the others did."

As her mind drifted into unconsciousness, she said the only name she could remember. "Gene…"

**Manchester – February 1974**

"Morning Guv." Gene looked up from what he was doing to see Meg leaning against the doorframe of his office, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."

"You're not," he replied, putting down his pen and pushing his chair back. "You all right?"

"Fine," she replied, stepping inside the office and lowering herself gently into a chair, groaning as she did so, "Apart from carrying around this ten tonne weight that is." Gene laughed. "It's not bloody funny! I'd like to see you try it." Meg rubbed her stomach.

He walked around the side of the desk and leant against the front of it, arms folded. "You should be at 'ome."

Meg made a face, "Don't you start."

"I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah."

"Well I don't really relish 'aving you give birth on the floor of me office!"

Meg looked down at the floor, covered in debris, distastefully, "Neither do I. But I've got another week to go, and from what I 'ear, first babies are usually late. So I reckon I'm in the clear."

She looked well, he had to give her that. The late stage of pregnancy clearly agreed with her. Her cheeks were rosy, her eyes bright. She looked beautiful and he told her so.

"Yeah right," she tossed it back at him, "I'm the size of an 'ouse." But she was smiling as she said it.

Their relationship had improved over the last few months. Meg had decided not to go to Scotland after all, and Ted, having realised he wasn't going to pry his daughter away from Manchester, had decided not to go either. Since Christmas, Meg and Gene had met up on several occasions, usually for dinner, and while she appeared to have forgiven him for his indiscretion and talked with him about their baby's future, they had made no lasting plans regarding their own.

"'Ow's the investigation going?" she asked suddenly, breaking into his thoughts.

"Not good," he replied, honestly, "We're no nearer catching who might be behind 'em." Victoria Clark, Alison Daley, Agnes Pitt, Linda Weatherby and Samantha Hill. Five young women abducted off the streets in the last month. Four bodies found so far. Only Samantha remained missing.

Meg shivered, "Don't bear thinking about."

"Too right. Which is why I want you to go 'ome right now."

"It's broad daylight!" she protested, "plus, who's going to abduct me looking like this?"

"You'd be surprised what gets some blokes going," he replied as she stood up.

"You're disgusting," she laughed, "but if you insist…"

"I do."

"Sure there's nothing I can do to 'elp? You know, plonk work or something? Anything?"

"No, just go 'ome. 'Ow did you get 'ere anyway?"

"Bus."

"Jesus flaming Christ woman!" he said in exasperation. "I'll call you a taxi."

"I don't need a taxi," Meg protested.

"You're not risking 'aving my kid on the bus."

"As opposed to in the back of a taxi?"

"Will you just bloody well do as you're told? For _once?_"

"Fine, fine," she held up her hands, "but I 'ave to run to the loo first. Is that allowed?"

He waved her away, shaking his head and she scurried out of the room laughing. Then he walked into the centre of the room and looked at the notice board Sam had insisted on erecting after the first murder. He looked at the photographs of the victims. So young, so innocent. Being butchered by that bastard, whoever he was. He thought about the parents he had had to break the news to. The ones he had taken to the morgue to see their daughter lying on the slab. He had stood there while they wept and demanded to know why and had even had to act as comforter himself when Linda Weatherby's mother had threw herself into his arms, consumed by grief. He hadn't really known what to say to her, other than make a false promise to catch the killer. Then there was Samantha Hill's parents. They were desperate for news of their daughter, clinging to the hope that she might still be alive, but knowing that in all likelihood she was dead.

"Guv!" All of a sudden, Annie came barrelling through the doors towards him.

"Cartwright," Gene mused, still looking at the photos, "I wonder if…"

"There's no time!" she interrupted him.

"No time for what?" he demanded, turning to look at her.

Annie shook her head, "It's Meg. I found 'er in the toilets."

"Found? What do you mean found?"

"She's in pain," Annie exclaimed, "I think she's in labour, Guv!"

**London – May 1981**

"Alex…"

Gene had been mumbling her name the entire way back from Manchester. After receiving Ray's phone call about his car, he had quietly told Ted what was happening and then told Daniel he had to get back to London quickly because there was something really important he had to do.

"Is it a scary thing?" Daniel had asked.

"Something like that," Gene had said, "but I promise I'll come back and see you later when you're back 'ome. Ok?" Daniel had nodded and Gene had hugged his son for the first time in…he couldn't remember how long. The feel of those little arms around his neck and the sweet smell of his son's hair had made Gene's heart skip a beat.

"You let me know if it's anything to do with you know what," Ted had said before he left.

"I will."

"I 'ope she's ok."

"So do I." With every mile he had travelled so far, Gene had grown more and more anxious. The train appeared to take forever and for once, he wished he had one of those things that both Sam and Alex had kept going on about. One of those phones you could carry around with you. But he had no way of getting in touch with the others until he arrived back in the capital. It was almost midnight by the time the train pulled in and he found Ray waiting for him on the platform.

"We've been round to Derek Wallace's house," Ray said as soon as they met, "There was no sign of 'im or DI Drake, but one of the neighbours remembers 'er from earlier on. She says she saw 'er go inside, but didn't see 'er come out again."

"And?"

"Well, when she looked out again, the car was gone, so she reckoned she'd just missed 'er leaving."

Gene shook his head as they approached Ray's car, "No, that's not it."

"I know that, Guv."

"What about my car?"

"Oh, it's in mint condition, Guv, no damage to it."

"I was talking about forensics!"

"Oh, well 'e was still there when I left. Chris was supervising." They got into the car. "Do you think it's 'im, Guv? Do you think Wallace is the killer?"

"Right now, I don't know," Gene replied, "All I do know, is that we 'ave to find DI Drake. If it is 'im…" he tailed off, not wanting to think about finding Alex the way he had found Meg. "Take me to Wallace's 'ouse."

"There's no-one there, Guv, I told you…"

"Just do it Ray!" Gene yelled, "All right? Just do it!" They pulled away into the streets and Gene gazed out of the window into the black night, "I'll find you Alex," he murmured to himself, "I promise, I won't let you down."


	18. Chapter 18

**Manchester – February 1974**

Meg's frightened face greeted Gene when he barrelled into the female bathroom. "I'm sure it's nothing. I'm sure it's just…just a twinge." Even as she said the words, her face creased with agony and she doubled over, clutching the wash hand basin for support.

"Just a twinge?" he echoed, "just a bloody twinge?!

"Oh…shit…" Meg breathed as the contraction washed over her, "Jesus Christ…" Annie hurried to her side and began rubbing her back while Gene remained, frozen, at the door. "I 'ad a bit of pain last night," Meg continued, "but I just thought it…oh…oh…ok…ok, it's passing now. It's passing."

"She needs to get to 'ospital, Guv," Annie said.

"Er…yeah, yeah of course," Gene babbled, "Erm…"

"We could take 'er in your car?"

"Oh yeah. Yeah, good idea Cartwright. Right!" He clapped his hands together, "Let's go then."

Meg stumbled forward and grabbed for his arm, "This is it, Gene," she said, giving him a watery smile, "Our baby's coming now."

"Cracking," he replied, unsure what to say, "let's…let's get you to the car, ok?"

"Good idea. Don't really fancy 'aving me kid in the nick."

"No, no you don't. Cartwright?" Gene motioned for her to hold the door open and then slowly began to manoeuvre Meg out. "You ok to walk?"

"Yeah," she replied, "I doubt you could carry me anyway." The three of them made their way out of the bathroom and along the corridor to the top of the stairs, travelling at a snail's pace. "Oh Lord," Meg said as they reached the top, "Oh 'ere comes another one!" She bent forward slightly as the pain coursed through her again.

"Breathe Meg," Annie encouraged, "Nice, deep breaths. In and out. That's it. Come on Guv, 'elp 'er out." Gene found himself beginning to breathe in tandem under Annie's instructions, feeling completely helpless in any other area.

"Oh…" Meg said suddenly, looking down at her feet.

"What?" Gene demanded.

"Me water's just broke."

He looked down and saw that her legs were wet, as was the floor. "Bloody 'ell!" he exclaimed, "Come on! Better 'urry up!" They began making their way down the stairs, but every step was painful for Meg and she yelped every so often. "Come on Meg!" Gene said impatiently, "Get a bloody move on or you'll be 'aving it right 'ere after all!"

"Stop being so bloody bossy!" she retorted. "Any time you want to change places…"

At that moment, Sam appeared from the bottom of the stairs. "What's going on?"

"She's in labour, Tyler, can't you tell?" Gene snapped. "We're taking 'er to the 'ospital."

"I'll come with you."

"I think we've got it covered thank you very much."

"I've delivered a baby before. You might need me."

"No, no, no," Meg said hurriedly, "no we won't need you for that. This baby's going to be born in the 'ospital, all right? In the 'ospital. Not 'ere, not anywhere else, but in the 'ospital. You're welcome to come along but not…" she broke off as another contraction hit her.

"'Ow far apart are they?" Sam asked, walking backwards down the stairs.

"About five minutes," Annie replied, "if that."

"Why, what does that mean?" Gene asked.

"It means we 'ave to 'urry," Sam replied, "Ok Meg, let's go, come on." He reached out and took her hand, gently pulling her down the stairs while Gene had his arm around her waist. "That's it, almost there."

"Good God!" Phyllis said, emerging from behind the desk, "What the 'ell…?"

"'Aven't you ever seen a woman in labour before Phyllis?" Gene demanded.

"Not one unlucky enough to give birth to _your _child I 'aven't," Phyllis replied, "You all right Meg love?"

"No," Meg replied in a strangled voice, "It bloody 'urts!"

"That's why it's called labour, Meg," Sam said.

"Very bloody funny."

"Come on, we're almost at the door," Sam encouraged.

"Good luck love," Phyllis called after them as they reached the door. Annie pushed it open and they emerged into the chilly air.

"Oh God…" Meg groaned, as the pain subsided, "I'll never make it down all them steps to the car."

"Yes you will," Gene replied, "Course you will, now come on." His arm still around her waist, they went down the first stair, Meg wincing as they did so. "Come on, nearly there…"

"We're not nearly there!" Meg retorted, "We're only at the bloody top!"

"You'll be wishing you'd booked in for a caesarean section, Meg," Sam said from behind.

"What?"

"You know, too posh to push and all that…" Gene shot him a look. "Never mind. Keep going, we're almost there."

"Just keep looking at the car, love," Gene said, "See 'ow it's getting closer? Five more steps, four more, three…there we go."

"Shit…" Meg breathed as they moved as quickly as they could towards the car. "Oh God…why did I agree to 'ave this baby? If you think you're ever getting sex from me again…"

"We can discuss my lack of sexual activity later," Gene replied opening the back door. Putting her bottom in first, Meg managed to get herself into the car. Annie got in beside her and Sam hurried round to the front passenger seat. Gene climbed in the front, gunned the engine, and roared away.

"Steady on, Gene…" Meg gasped from the back, "I'd like to make it to 'ospital in one piece…"

"Don't you worry bout my driving, love," he called back to her, "just you concentrate on keeping that baby inside you til we get there."

"Easier said than done….arggh…." Meg groaned again, "Oh…holy God…"

Gene barrelled around corners and overtook other cars at random, the sound of beeping horns fading behind them.

"Keep breathing Meg!" Sam called helpfully.

"I'm 'ardly going to bloody stop, am I?" she snapped. "Oh no…no, I want to push…"

"No, don't push!" Sam twisted around in his seat, "Don't push Meg! Annie, don't let 'er push!"

"Try not to push," Annie said.

"But I want to…."

"You can't push yet," Sam said, "you 'ave to wait until we get to the 'ospital."

"I can't!"

"You're going to 'ave to pull over!" Annie shouted.

"What? Why?" Gene shouted back. "We're nearly there!"

"She's not going to make it, Guv!"

"Shit!" Gene slammed on the brakes and pulled into the side of the road. Twisting round in his seat, he saw Annie encourage Meg to lie out flat on the backseat. Her face was red and sweaty, her expression pained.

Sam jumped out of the passenger seat and ran round to the other side of the car. "Ok Meg," he said, leaning in the door, "I'm just going to lift your dress and take a look…"

"No you bloody are not!" Gene said, climbing out also.

"Would you rather we just left 'er to give birth by 'erself?" Sam asked.

"No…"

"Then let me do this. I know what I'm doing!" He turned back to Meg, "You'll be glad I came now, ok?"

"Ok," she replied breathlessly. "Oh...God…"

Sam lifted her dress and took down her underwear.

"Bloody 'ell," Gene said, glancing around at passing cars, "Folks are going to think we're up to something kinky 'ere."

Sam shook his head, "Do you want to get to the other end?"

"What?"

"Go and 'old 'er 'and!"

"Oh, yeah, right." Gene ran around the back of the car and opened the other back door where Meg's head was. "You all right there love?" he asked, crouching down beside her and reaching over to take one of her hands.

"No."

"Good."

"Annie, get the blanket from the boot and stand behind me and block the view, ok?" Sam directed.

"That's right Cartwright," Gene said, "put your behind to good use."

"Ok Meg," Sam said, ignoring him, "when the next contraction comes I want you to push really 'ard, ok?" She nodded. "Ok."

"Ooh, it's coming!" she yelped, "Ah……"

"Ok Meg, push! Push, come on, push!" Meg bore down hard, her face turning an even brighter shade of red. "That's it, keep going…good…good, now pant, Meg. Come on pant…" Sam demonstrated and Meg followed suit, "That's it, good girl. A little encouragement wouldn't go amiss Gene."

Gene was still recovering from Meg's iron like grip which had almost resulted in an involuntary amputation, "Er…yeah, just like that Meg. Good girl."

"I'm not…a bloody…dog…" Meg gasped, "Ow! Ow, it still hurts…"

"That's it Meg, keep pushing!" Sam said again, "come on, big push now! Come on, push!"

"I AM PUSHING!!" Meg screamed.

"Jesus Meg, let go of me 'and!" Gene yelped.

"No!" she shouted back, "No, you're not getting out of this. You're not leaving me, Gene Hunt, you hear me? You're not leaving me…not again…"

He looked at her, "I've never bloody left you. You were the one who left me!"

"Annie, stick the radio on," Sam said, eager to divert attention away from the deep and meangingful discussion taking place. Annie opened the driver's door and turned the knob. All of a sudden, the Mamas and the Papas singing _Dedicated to the One I Love _filled the car.

"AAAAAARRRRGHHH!" Meg screamed again, "I know…I'm sorry…I'm sorry, please…please just don't leave me. I can't do this by meself…" She started crying. "I can't do this, I can't…"

"Yes you can!" Gene said, "Yes you can! Megan Ryan can do anything she sets 'er bloody mind to."

"No…"

"Yes!"

"Meg, I need you to push again for me," Sam said, his head appearing from over the top of Meg's knees, "Ok, on three…one, two…"

"I can't…"

"Yes you can. Three! Push! Push, that's it. That's it Meg, push!"

"Come on love," Gene said, his mouth next to Meg's ear, "Come on love, you can do it. I know you can do it."

"Gene, I can't…" Meg sobbed, "I can't do this…"

"I can see the 'ead!" Sam declared.

"I can see it too Meg, come on!" Annie encouraged.

"You're almost there, Meg, just a little more effort."

Meg turned her head and met Gene's gaze, "I can't…can't do any more…Gene…please…if you love me…"

He loved her, loved her so much and here she was, in the last throws of giving their baby life. He had never loved her more than he loved her now. The last few months, all the pettiness, all the hurt, how could he have let it get to the point where she thought he would have left her to do this by herself? How could he have almost thrown all this away?

"I love you," he whispered to her, "I love you and I know you can do this. Come on Meg."

"One more big push Meg, ok?" Sam shouted up. "Just one more."

Meg's eyes were still on Gene, "I love you too."

"Push!"

She closed her eyes and pushed as hard as she could. Gene, still holding her hand could feel her entire body shaking with the effort. He found himself willing her to push as hard as possible.

"The 'ead's out, Meg, the 'ead's out!" Sam declared, "That's it, that's it." Gene heard a slithering sound and then a wail filled the air. "Well done! It's a boy!"

"A boy?" Gene asked, "You sure?"

"Course I'm sure," Sam held the baby up, "see for yourself." The small screaming bundle was covered in afterbirth, but Gene could definitely see a penis. "You've got a son, Guv."

Gene felt his eyes begin to fill up, but he wasn't about to cry in front of the others, so he rubbed them viciously, "Brilliant. Well done Tyler!"

Sam grinned as he passed the baby to Annie to wrap in the blanket. "I reckon Meg's owed all the credit."

Gene looked down at where she was lying panting on the seat, her eyes closed, her hair stuck to her. "Got a boy, Meg," he kissed her cheek, "Got a boy."

Meg opened her eyes and looked up at him, "Is 'e all right?"

"'E's fine," Sam said, "good pair of lungs on 'im." We'll take 'im to the 'ospital once you've got your breath back. Get you checked over too."

"Do you want to 'old 'im?" Annie asked, appearing again over Sam's shoulder. Meg nodded and Sam moved out of the way to allow Annie to reach in and lie the baby down on Meg's chest. He was still crying, but upon coming into contact with Meg, his cries seemed to subside to small whimpers.

"E's beautiful," Meg said, "absolutely perfect. Isn't 'e Gene?"

"Yeah," Gene said, "bloody marvellous."

"Don't swear around 'im," she scolded, gently stroking the fine hair on her son's head. "Thank you."

It took Gene a minute to realise she was talking to him. "For what?"

"For giving me our son," she looked up at him, "Thank you."

Gene coughed to cover his embarrassment in front of Annie, who withdrew from the car to give them their privacy. "You're welcome. And…eh…well done. I'm really proud of you. I want you to know that."

"I know." She accepted the kiss he offered.

"And there's something else I want you to know," he continued, pulling back.

"What's that?"

"You'll be paying me back for the rest of your life for the cost of getting this backseat cleaned."


	19. Chapter 19

**If you're wondering what I replaced in this chapter (if you've got an email saying I have) I made a wee mistake with Daniel's name which has now been corrected. Thanks for reviewing!!**

**London – May 1981**

Alex sat up against the wall watching as Derek fumbled with his fly. He had his back to her, too ashamed to face her. She waited, holding her breath, wondering if his failure to perform would lead to a rush of anger and violence. The longer she waited, the less that likely that was, and after what seemed like forever, she decided to speak.

"Has that never happened before?" she asked.

"Shut up," Derek muttered, his back still turned. "This sort of thing…doesn't 'appen to me…" he was talking to himself, "stupid, stupid, stupid…"

"It happens to a lot of men."

"I said, shut up!" he whirled around on the floor to face her. "You don't know what you're talking about." He ran a hand through his hair, "It didn't 'appen before, it just didn't."

"They wanted it, is that what you mean?" she asked. He looked at her. "The others. Did they want it?" He didn't reply. "Did you want them?"

"Them?" His eyes narrowed and his lip curled in disgust, "I didn't want _them_. I only wanted 'er."

"Her?" Alex asked, "You mean Meg." Derek nodded slowly and Alex saw her chance to try and break through. "What was special about Meg?"

"She was…" he broke off, as if transported back through the years, "She was funny and fiery and wouldn't take any shit. She was special."

Alex nodded, "It's not often you find someone like that."

"No."

"And did you want to spend time with her?"

"Of course. Everyone did. She was very popular." He cocked his head on one side, "I asked her out on a date once."

"Really?"

"_A Clockwork Orange._ I thought she might like to go and see it, but she didn't."

"I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well."

"And what about the others?"

"Others?"

"The other women, Derek. Pauline and Samantha and…"

Derek waved his hand, "They didn't mean anything! They were just there! Something to 'ave while I waited. I wanted 'er to know that she meant something to me, that I wanted 'er."

Alex took a breath, "What did you do to them?"

"Brought them 'ere, showed 'em what I could give. What I wanted to give to Meg. But…" he shook his head, "they didn't seem to like it, didn't seem to appreciate it. Even when I said to them 'look, this is what I could give 'er' they didn't seem to understand. Then she came 'ere and I thought…I thought it would all fall into place. That she'd see and she'd decide that she wanted to be with me after all. Me, rather than 'im."

"DCI Hunt?"

Derek nodded, "Arrogant bastard. Always shouting at 'er, treating 'er like dirt. Even when 'e got 'er pregnant 'e didn't change. Didn't deserve to 'ave 'er."

"But he loved her," Alex offered gently, "and she loved him."

"She didn't love 'im!" Derek shouted, "She couldn't 'ave! 'Ow could she? When I was there! Prepared to offer 'er everything she wanted, 'ow could she 'ave chosen 'im?! As for 'im loving 'er, well that was rubbish. 'E only wanted 'er to get 'is leg over, that was what 'e wanted. I could 'ave given 'er more than that."

"She rejected what you offered her."

"Yes!" he looked at her wild-eyed. "All the time she was 'ere and I was trying to show 'er 'ow much I cared about 'er, 'ow much I wanted 'er, she just kept crying all the time. Crying for 'im! Wanting 'im to come and 'elp 'er! Kept telling me she 'ad a baby and would I please let 'er go!" He shook his head, clearly distressed, "I would never 'ave 'urt 'er!"

Alex took the plunge, "But you killed her, Derek. You killed Meg. Wasn't that hurting her?"

"I 'ad no choice," he replied, his tone weary. "She wouldn't be quiet, she wouldn't do what I wanted. She fought me…all the time. Even when I was trying to show 'er…" he trailed off. "I didn't want to do it, but she made me. I 'ad to shut 'er up."

Alex closed her eyes briefly, her body shaking slightly at the thought of all the women who had met their ends in this building. All the ones before Meg, Meg herself, and afterwards. "And what about the women now, Derek? The ones who have died over the last few months? Why them? Why now?"

He looked at her hard, "Don't you understand?"

"No."

"I 'ad to make 'im pay. Gene Hunt. I 'ad to make 'im pay."

"Hadn't you done that by killing Meg? You destroyed him…"

"No I didn't," Derek replied, "'E was upset about it, of course, but 'e got over it. I've watched 'im, you know, over the years. The women 'e's been with, the son 'e doesn't care about…"

"He does care about him…"

"…Losing 'er didn't even bother 'im," he continued, as if he hadn't heard her. "A few months went by and the killing stopped and everyone went back to normal, including 'im. He didn't suffer over Meg. If she 'ad been mine, and she'd been taken from me, I'd 'ave done meself in. Couldn't 'ave lived without 'er." He nodded, "It was time to put 'im back in the spotlight again. Taking one woman he cared about didn't seem to do too much damage. So I guess we'll have to try it with a second."

It took Alex a moment to realise he was talking about her, "But…me…I don't mean anything to DCI Hunt…"

"Oh Alex," he tutted sympathetically, "but you do. 'E cares about you even more than 'e ever cared about Meg." He got to his feet and began walking towards her, "And that's why this is the only way to destroy 'im…"

**Manchester – March 1974**

"What do you think?" Meg asked, appearing at the living room door, "Do I look all right?"

Gene looked up from the newspaper he was reading and looked her up and down. She had on a black skirt and top, her hair loose down her back. She stepped fully into the room and gave him a twirl. "You look fine," he replied.

"Fine?" she frowned, "Is that all? Just fine?"

He looked up at her again, "What do you want me to say?"

"I don't know. 'Ow about, _ravishingly gorgeous._"

"Ok, you look ravishingly gorgeous."

"As if I'd believe you now," Meg craned her neck to look down at the paper in his lap, "What you reading anyway?" He held it out to her, "_Cops no nearer to tracking killer._" She passed it back, "Wonderful. 'Ow long's it been since they found Samantha Hill's body?"

"Eighteen days."

"That's the longest 'e's been quiet, isn't it?"

"Yeah, and I don't like it." Gene looked up at her again, "That top's a bit tight isn't it?"

"Tight?" Meg looked down. "'Ow do you mean?"

"On your tits."

She made a face, "I'm breastfeeding, Gene. I can't 'elp it if they're a bit bigger than they were before."

"I'm not complaining," he said, "or rather, I wouldn't be if I were getting any bloody benefit…"

"We've been over this…" she said, "the doctor said six to eight weeks before sexual intercourse…"

"…but I don't see why 'alf the blokes in Manchester should get a look."

"No-one's going to be 'getting a look' as you so nicely put it. It's not like I'm going to be sat in the pub with me top round me neck."

"Hmm…anyway," he said, getting to the real reason for his trepidation, "I'm not too 'appy about you going out anyway."

"Oh 'ere we go," Meg rolled her eyes.

"It's not a bloody joke, Meg," he chastised her, "there's a nutter out there killing women in case you 'adn't noticed."

"I 'ad noticed actually," she replied, "you can't not bloody notice. It's in every newspaper, every news bulletin, everywhere you bloody go people are talking about it."

"Yeah, because the women of this city are frightened, and so they bloody should be."

"I'm going to be in the Dog and Pony, not wandering the streets. It's just going to be me and some of the girls and I'll be back by eleven," she crouched down next to his chair, "I 'aven't been out in months. And I'll be careful, I promise. Anyway," she smiled, "I'm more worried about going out and leaving you alone with Daniel. You sure you don't want me to get Dad to come over and keep you company?"

"No," Gene replied quickly, "I've 'ad enough of 'im to last me a lifetime right now. Did you talk to 'im about it?"

Meg sighed, "I told 'im we were angry about what 'e'd done and the minute I get the chance we'll go down the town hall and sort it out."

"Daniel Edward Ryan," Gene grumbled, "And to leave me name off the birth certificate? Sly bastard."

"I'm going before we get into this _again,_" Meg said standing up as the taxi she had booked beeped outside. "Now, 'e's been fed and changed so 'e should be good until I get back. If you're lucky, I might just stay the night and not go back to the flat."

"What good's that without any nookie?"

She shook her head and picked up her bag, "Right, I'm going. 'Ave a nice night."

"Hang on!" he got out of the chair and followed her to the front door. "Don't I even get a kiss goodbye?"

She leant into him and kissed him and he pulled her to him, loving the feel of her close to him again, almost unable to wait for the time when he could show her again how much he really did love her.

"I'm going to be late," she said, pulling back, "I'll see you later."

He watched as she opened the front door and hurried down the path to where the taxi was waiting. "Meg!" he called after her.

She turned as she was about to open the door. "What?"

"I…er…" he glanced down the street to make sure no-one was ear-wigging, "I…well…I love you."

Meg grinned at him, "I love you too Gene." Then, she climbed into the taxi and waved as it pulled away from the kerb. He watched until it had disappeared round the corner, not knowing, not possibly ever having been able to contemplate, that he would never see her alive again.

**London – May 1981**

Derek Wallace's house was in darkness when Ray pulled up outside, not that Gene had expected anything different. There was a uniformed office standing outside, but aside from that, there was no other evidence that anything untoward could have happened there.

"'As someone been inside?" Gene asked, getting out of the car.

"We searched it Guv, but it were empty," Ray replied, "No sign of anyone. Except…" he trailed off.

"Except what?"

Ray clearly didn't know how to explain it, so he let Gene see for himself. He showed him into the house, down the hallway and into that room. As he stood looking at the picture gallery of newspaper clippings, the entire wall devoted to Meg, Gene felt his stomach drop. "It were 'im," he said softly, "It were 'im all along. 'E did all of 'em."

"And 'e worked right under our noses," Ray said, "'Ow could we not see it?"

"No-one would 'ave guessed it were one of our own responsible," Gene said, tearing his eyes away and leaving the room before he was sick. "What do we know about Wallace, apart from the fact 'e's a murdering scumbag."

"Not much," Ray replied, "He's single, lives alone. His mother lives in Manchester but 'e doesn't seem to 'ave any other family."

"What about 'obbies or stuff like that?"

"PC Dickson 'ere says that 'e's got an allotment about a mile from 'ere." Ray gestured to the uniformed officer at the door.

"An allotment?" Gene echoed?"

PC Dickson nodded, "Yeah, apparently 'e likes growing things, you know. Bit of a fan of The Good Life."

"Right, I want every available officer down them allotments right now! If that's where 'e's 'olding DI Drake…"

"If she's still alive, Guv," Ray cautioned.

"She's still alive."

"'Ow do you know?"

He could feel it. He couldn't explain it, but he could feel it. It was like the dream he had had, the one where Meg was calling out to him. He could hear the same words in his head, but spoken in Alex's voice. And this time, they weren't the words of a ghost, but the words of a survivor.


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you so much for all your reviews! I'd love to get over 100 before this story's out!! I reckon I'm good for maybe three or four more chapters!! I'm so glad you're liking this story so much!**

**Manchester – 19****th**** March 1974**

Eleven o'clock came and went.

At first, Gene wasn't concerned. Meg was a young woman, enjoying her first night out for months. It was only natural that she would be a little late. He had spent most of the night in front of the television, smoking and having the odd whisky, but mindful of the night Ted and Catherine had come home when he had babysat Meg for the first time and found him passed out on the couch. The memory made him chuckle.

Midnight came and went.

Daniel started to cry, clearly upset as to why his source of food had not reappeared. Gene held him in his arms, walked him up and down, gently rocked him, willed him to stop crying and began to gently curse Meg for being late. "I know, son," he murmured, "trust me, you're not the only one missing 'er tits lately."

One o'clock came and went.

Gene was furious by this point. "Selfish tart," he muttered to himself as he closed the bedroom door on his son's screams, unable to listen to any more. Stalking to the window, he looked down the street, waiting for the sight of a taxi, waiting for Meg to come hurrying up the steps, full of apologies. She was breastfeeding. She couldn't even use the excuse of being drunk.

Two o'clock came and went.

By now, Gene's anger had been replaced by worry. He hesitated, his hand over the phone, wondering if he should phone Ted. He could only imagine what he would say and that was what prevented Gene from acting. He wished he could remember Sandra's phone number, but realised that he didn't even know if Sandra had been part of the group Meg was going out with. Daniel's screams had stopped as his son fell asleep with exhaustion, but Gene was ever mindful that he would need feeding. Images of five dead women flashed through his mind. Daughters, sisters, friends…

Three o'clock came and went.

"Where the bloody 'ell is she?" Ted demanded as he came through the front door.

"If I knew that, I wouldn't 'ave called you," Gene replied, shouting over his son's cries. "She said she'd be back at eleven in time to feed 'im."

"Well she clearly isn't!" Ted shouted back, "Where was she going?"

"The Laurel."

"On Elviston Road?" Gene nodded, "Right. I'll 'ead down there."

"It'll be shut."

"Well it's better than sitting 'ere!"

"What do I do about 'im?" Gene asked, gesturing at Daniel.

Ted looked at him, "I'll be back with something."

Four o'clock came and went.

Ted returned with some powdered milk and set about making a bottle. Gene hovered in the doorway of the kitchen watching him. "'Ow do you know about all this stuff?"

"Catherine couldn't breastfeed," Ted replied simply.

"Oh." Gene watched as Ted took Daniel in his arms and started feeding him confidently. Immediately, his son began suckling hungrily, bringing an end to the incessant screams.

"You should call the station," Ted said. "Something's wrong, Gene, even you 'ave to admit that. Meg wouldn't be out this late on purpose. She wouldn't…" he broke off, "Something's 'appened. You should 'ave called me sooner, Gene."

Gene saw the fear in the other man's eyes, meeting his own. Without another word, he lifted the phone and called Sam.

**Manchester – 24****th**** March 1974**

"Guv?" Gene looked up and saw Sam standing at the door to his office, "It's gone eight."

"I know what time it is," he replied sourly.

"I think you should go 'ome, get some sleep," Sam said, stepping inside. "You look like shit."

"Well thank you for that Tyler, I really appreciate your opinion," he shot back sarcastically, "but in case you 'adn't noticed, Meg's been missing for five days now and I am not _leaving _this nick until she's found!"

Sam sat down slowly on the chair opposite his desk, "Running yourself into the ground isn't going to 'elp you find 'er any quicker." Gene looked at him, "Not spending any time with your son is not going to…"

"Danny's with Ted."

"I know, but…"

"'E's better off there just now," Gene stubbed his cigarette out into the overflowing ashtray and automatically lit another, "Ted knows what to do with babies."

"I thought you were never going to speak to 'im again after he drafted Turnbull in."

"Yeah well…" Gene took a long drag of his cigarette, "needs must."

"Guv…"

"Tyler, I am _not _going 'ome. I went 'ome the first two nights and all I bloody did was pace the room while Danny screamed in the background. It doesn't elp. I need to be 'ere, just in case…" he looked down at the papers on his desk, meaningless to him in his tired state.

"Ok," Sam said, knowing when he was beaten, "let's go over that night again."

"Do we 'ave to?" Gene replied, "If I 'ave to tell it any more I'm liable to start embellishing it with tales of wild sex."

"Meg was going out," Sam continued regardless, "it was 'er birthday and she was going out with friends. Where was she going?"

"The Laurel on Elviston Road."

"Who was she going with?"

"Friends of 'ers. I don't know who." He cursed himself for not having asked, for not having shown more of an interest.

"And when did she say she'd be back?"

"By eleven. In time for Danny's next feeding." He ran his hands over his eyes, "Only she never made it back." He looked down at the picture of Meg Ted had provided five days earlier. "Do you reckon she's dead?" Sam didn't reply, so he looked up to meet his gaze. "Do you?"

Before Sam could confirm Gene's own fears, Ray appeared at the door. "Guv, we've found a couple of blokes who saw Meg in The Laurel on Friday night."

Gene leapt from his chair and followed Ray through the squad room and into Lost and Found where only a few short days earlier he had himself been questioned. Both men were in their late twenties, dark-haired, good looking and clearly slightly nervous.

"This is me boss DCI Hunt," Ray said by way of introduction, "Guv this is Mike Lewis and Dave Brown."

Gene pulled out Meg's picture and held it out to both men, "You saw this woman in The Laurel on Friday night?"

"Yeah," Mike nodded, "We noticed 'er cause she was dead sexy looking."

Gene ignored the comment, "Who was she with?"

"Couple of other girls. They were sat in the corner."

"'ow long were they there?"

"They left just before we did," Dave said, "round about ten. Said they were going to another pub that a friend 'ad recommended."

"You spoke to them?" Gene seized on this.

"We spoke to 'er," Dave replied, "when she came up to the bar to order drinks. She was nice, dead friendly."

"What did you talk about?"

"Just asked what they were celebrating. They'd ordered champagne, you see, so we kind of wondered. She said it was 'er birthday so we gave 'er a birthday kiss each." Both men laughed.

"Oh really?" Gene replied, liking them less, despite their help.

"Reckon this twat thought 'e was in with a chance," Dave said, nudging Mike, "but she said she already 'ad a bloke, and a baby, and we saw that she wasn't 'aving any of the champagne, so we backed off."

"What pub did they say they were going to?" Ray asked.

"It was one we 'adn't 'eard of before," Mike said, "Can't remember the name, but it was somewhere on Cooper Lane or roundabout there."

"Ray…"

"On it Guv," Ray disappeared out of the room.

"Do you think it's 'im?" Dave asked.

"'Im who?" Gene asked.

"The serial killer. The one who killed all those other women?"

Gene took a deep breath, "I wish I could say no," he replied before turning and walking out of the room. Closing the door behind him, he leant against it and let out the air in his lungs until there was nothing left.

**Manchester – 26****th**** March 1974**

It was raining when they found her. A steady drizzle had turned into a torrential downpour and had then slowly drifted back to a drizzle again. The sky had remained grey and foreboding all day. A sign, perhaps, of the darkness that would come out of that day.

He would remember the phone call for the rest of his life.

"Guv…" Ray's voice shook, "we've…we've found…" He didn't get to finish the sentence. Gene didn't want to hear the words.

It was a short drive to the scene, but the traffic was heavy as the Friday rush hour approached. Uncharacteristically, Gene didn't shout at the cars, didn't beep his horn or demand them to move out of the way. He didn't want to reach his destination. Didn't want to acknowledge that the search was at an end.

Eventually, he drove through the long broken gates leading into the deserted factory and pulled to a halt next to a marked car. In slow motion, he got out of the car, surveying the scene in front of him. Rope had already been placed around the scene and he could see a number of people standing about. In the distance, he could make out Sam who almost seemed to sense his presence and turned to look at him. In slow motion, he began making his way towards them, every step seeming to pound in his head, taking him closer and closer to his worst nightmare.

Sam met him at the edge of the cordoned area and held out his arms, as if to prevent him from going any further. "Gene, don't…" He tried to hold him back but Gene shook him off easily, his gaze fixed on the man-made trench in front of him.

Sliding down the embankment, oblivious to the mud, he took in the sight in front of him. Someone had thought to cover her with a tarpaulin but as he crawled on his knees to the side of the body, Gene knew what he would find underneath. He looked at it for a long moment until, finally, with trembling fingers, he pulled it back and revealed Meg's pale, lifeless face.

Her hair was caked in mud, her make-up smeared. Ugly finger marks glowed dark against her pale skin around her neck. He pulled the sheet back further, revealing the top she had worn to go out with an ugly rip down it, exposing one bare breast to the elements. Moving further down, he saw that she was missing her skirt and her underwear. Dried patches of blood on her thighs confirmed for him that whoever it was had had his fun with her.

"No," he heard himself say, "No, please God, no…" He slid his hands under Meg's body and dragged her to him. In a flash, Sam was at his side, furiously whispering in his ear about forensics, but for once, Gene didn't care. He pulled Meg into his arms and held her to him, buried her face in his neck and tried to blot out the smell of decomposition that she now radiated. He didn't cry easily, but he felt tears rolling down his face. She couldn't be dead, she just couldn't be. This wasn't happening…he held her, clung to her, in a way that he never had when she was alive and wished with all his heart he had.

The world seemed to stop around him. Sounds ceased to be heard, the wind ceased to blow, the rain ceased to fall. In that moment there was nothing but Gene, Meg and the unimaginable knot of pain twisting his gut. Pulling back, he pushed her hair away from her face, her skin clammy and cold. He ran his fingertips over the marks on her neck, imagining him, his hands around her throat, crushing the life out of her…

"I'm sorry," he said softly, "I'm so, so sorry."

"Guv." Sam's voice broke into his thoughts and he looked up "You 'ave to leave 'er now."

He knew Sam was right. He looked back down in Meg's face, hoping that her eyes would spring open, that she would laugh and tell him it had all been a joke. But she didn't. Her eyes remained closed, her body remained limp. She remained dead. Lowering his head, he kissed her forehead, tightened his arms around her one last time and then, slowly, he lowered her back onto the ground, pulling the tarpaulin back around her to protect her modesty, pausing for one last look at her face before covering it. Then he got unsteadily to his feet and looked down at the covered body one last time before turning and clambouring back up the embankment, leaving her behind for the final time.

He met Ray at the top. "I want…" he started, his voice wavering, "I want every scumbag brought in and I want 'em questioned."

"Yes Guv," Ray replied quietly.

"I don't care what you do to 'em but I want the bastard that did this to 'er in my station."

"We're on it boss."

Gene looked at his Sergeant without really seeing him. "And then I want the rest of you to get the 'ell out of my way."


	21. Chapter 21

**It's all coming together now guys. Thanks for sticking with it so far!**

**Manchester – 3****rd**** April 1974**

"And so we commit the soul of our dear departed sister Megan to your care, Lord, and return her body to the ground. Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust. In sure and certain hope of the resurrection to eternal life. Amen."

_I've lost her._

The church service had been well attended, filled with Meg's colleagues and friends. The cemetery equally so. Everyone wanted to come and say goodbye. The day, which had started off gloomy and overcast, had given way to bright sunshine and even now, Gene found he had to shade his eyes against the glare. Sam, Ray and Chris had all been pallbearers along with one of Meg's cousins, a weedy looking bloke that Gene had half expected to drop the coffin on the way into the church. Now, the four of them stepped forward and took a cord each, slowly lowering the casket into the ground.

As they did so, Ted stepped forward, stoic and dry-eyed, and dropped a handful of dirt on top of the lid. When he stepped back, he turned sharply to Gene as if to say _"hurry up and do it then." _Gene followed suit, but he paused for a moment, looking down at the coffin, watching as the gold plaque on the front fell further and further away from him. Then he dropped his own handful of dirt, obscuring it from view.

_It's my fault I've lost her._

The cords were dropped into the grave and everyone took a step back, everyone but Gene and Ted, who stayed where they were, looking down into the ground. One by one, mourners began approaching them, offering murmured words of condolence. Ted reacted well, shook their hands and nodded his thanks. Gene ignored everyone.

"I'm really very sorry, Gene," Sam said, coming up beside him, "If there's anything I can do…" His sentiment hung in the air until he stepped away from his boss. Finally, only Ted and Gene were left together.

"If I weren't seeing it with me own eyes," Ted said after a moment, "I would never 'ave believed it. Me wife and me daughter…" his gaze switched to Catherine's grave. "'Ow could this 'ave 'appened, Gene?"

Gene had no answer for him.

"You're going to catch the bastard, aren't you?" Ted's tone was almost pleading and for the first time, Gene turned to face his friend. "I mean, you've got everyone on this, 'aven't you?"

"It's being taken care of," Gene replied, and was surprised at the steadiness of his own voice.

"You need the best on this investigation," Ted continued, "That's why I got Turnbull in. Tyler's competent, I grant you that, but Carling and Skelton…"

"Are members of my team," Gene interrupted him, "And are working as 'ard as they can. Meg was one of their own."

"Yes and she was _my _daughter!"

"And the mother of _my _child!"

"Who you seem to 'ave paid scant attention to over the last few weeks," Ted remarked. "But then I suppose you'll be relieved to be back to being a lone wolf again."

"And at least you can go back to the bottom of a bottle where you seem to love to be," Gene shot back.

Both men looked at each other for a long moment. "You know, you ruined 'er life," Ted said.

"Shut up."

"I mean it, Gene. Twenty-three, unmarried with a baby. Shacked up with a man twice 'er age. A man who was supposed to be 'er godfather. A man who was supposed to _protect _'er…"

"Shut up before I shut you up," Gene threatened.

"A man who put 'er in there!" Ted pointed to the grave in front of them moments before Gene launched himself at him. One punch knocked Ted off of his feet and onto the ground. Moments later, however, he was on his feet and landed a stinging blow in response. Both men then began trading blows, each one venting their pain and fury on the other, until Sam and Ray intervened and pulled them apart.

"Enough!" Sam shouted, pulling Gene away. "'Ow is this 'elping anybody?!"

"Let me go!" Gene struggled.

"Not if you're going to beat 'im to a pulp I won't."

"You bastard, Hunt!" Ted spat, "I'm going to make sure you pay for this, for all of it! I'm going to make sure this investigation is run right if I 'ave to run it myself! I don't trust you as far as I could throw you!"

"Well that makes two of us!"

"Stop it!" Sam shouted again, "You've both lost someone you loved very much, I know that. But blaming each other and taking cheap shots doesn't 'elp anyone, least of all Meg. She's gone and we need to find out who took 'er and why. Put your energies into that rather than trying to kill each other!" Gene and Ted both stopped struggling, but continued to eye each other angrily. "Ok?" Sam slowly let go of Gene's arms as Ray released Ted.

"I meant what I said, Gene," Ted said, smoothing down his jacket, "I'll never forgive you for this."

"Yeah well neither will I," Gene retorted. Ted shook his head, turned and began making his way back down the path to the funeral cars, Ray following.

"You all right?" Sam asked, turning back to Gene.

"Just leave me alone, Tyler, all right?"

"But…"

"Just piss off!" Without another word, Sam began following Ray and Ted back down the hill, leaving Gene alone at the graveside. He stepped forward and looked down into the grave again, at the casket, neatly sat down in the darkness. "I'm sorry," he said, to no-one in particular. "I'm sorry I lost you."

**Six weeks later**

"It doesn't mean it's over," Sam said. "It doesn't mean that we're going to stop looking or trying or…"

"Save it, Tyler," Gene said, lighting a cigarette, "I don't want to 'ear it."

"We _will_ catch the bastard."

"No more killings since Meg. No-one else gone missing. 'E's finished. 'E won't be back."

"That doesn't mean we won't get 'im."

"Don't it?"

"No."

Gene lifted a file that was sitting on his desk and tossed it to Sam. "Bank job two days ago. Thieves got away with over ten grand." Sam looked at him, "Well, what are you waiting for? Written orders?"

"Guv…"

"Just do it, Sam, ok?" Gene said, refusing to meet his inspector's gaze. He waited until he heard the door closing, signalling he was alone again. Pouring himself a generous whisky, he downed it in one and then stared at the phone, wondering if he should call Ted and see how Daniel was. Then his gaze shifted to the photograph of Meg that had been on his desk. The one taken at the police picnic, where she was holding a sunflower and grinning into the camera.

"Crime doesn't stop because a police officer is murdered," Superintendent Rathbone's words resonated in his head, "I'm sorry Gene, but you're no closer to catching this maniac now than you were six months ago when this all began. We can't keep wasting resources on this."

Opening his desk drawer, he put the picture inside and then sat looking down at it for a long moment. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, he repeated to her picture the words he had said to her grave. "I'm sorry I lost you."

Then he closed the drawer.

**London – May 1981**

If you had to pick somewhere to die, you would imagine it would be somewhere nice. Sunny perhaps. Warm even. And you wouldn't want it to hurt. No, it would have to be painless. But then, unless you kill yourself and plan it all out, you don't ever get to choose. And some people might choose differently from others. One person's idea of heavenly death might be under a bus and another person's might be in a carbon monoxide-filled car.

But, in a cold, damp, dark building on an allotment? No-one would choose that, surely? Alex Drake certainly wouldn't and that's when she realised, as Derek Wallace came towards her, that she was going to fight for her life like she had never fought before.

"Is this how Meg died?" She asked, pushing herself backwards on the floor, "Is this how they all died?"

"The sooner you just accept it, the sooner we can get it over with," Derek replied. "And the sooner 'e's destroyed." The very words brought a look of pleasure to his face.

Alex's back hit the wall, "You don't have to do this, Derek. There are people out there that can help you, people who will understand…"

"'Elp? Understand?" He looked at her sternly, "I don't need people to 'elp me or understand me, Alex. I just need…"

"To destroy Gene Hunt, I know," she interrupted, trying to pull herself to her feet using the bricks on the wall. It was difficult, and she felt the skin on her fingers tearing with the effort, but she knew her only chance was to be level with him. "But, you won't destroy him by doing this. You can't destroy him. He's…"

"Unbreakable?" Derek mocked, "I was there to 'ear that speech too, Alex. Words. Just words."

"No, Derek, not just words. They were…him…it's who he is, what he is…"

"'E's a copper like any other copper. And 'e's a man like any other man. And men can be destroyed."

"By destroying women they care about? After you realised Meg was rejecting you, you decided to take a different tact and hurt Gene as well as Meg."

Derek stopped walking and looked at her, "I said I'd let 'er go if she promised not to tell 'im. But she couldn't promise that. She wouldn't stop screaming…" his face took on a pained expression, "I 'ad no choice. Killed two birds with one stone, if you like."

By now, Alex was on her feet, "But if you wanted to hurt him, and you think he cares about me, why not take me first? Why kill the others, Derek? What had they done to you?"

"I didn't know then about you," he replied, "I adn't convinced myself about it then and I 'ad to start somewhere. You'll be my epitaph though, Alex. No more after you, I promise."

"Isn't that what you told yourself in 1974? Isn't that how you justified mourning Meg, by promising it would never happen again?" Alex began moving along the wall to where the door Derek had used was only just closed over, a chink of dull light seeping through.

He frowned, "I suppose…"

"But it did happen again, and you couldn't stop it. How do you know you can stop now?"

He took a deep breath, "Maybe I don't. Maybe I'll only know that when I see 'is reaction to your death. Speaking of which…" He made to move towards her again, but Alex was already at the door.

Throwing it open, she hurtled herself out into the darkness, trying to stay on her feet, running mindlessly ahead, not pausing to even try and decipher which way to go.

"Come back!" She heard Derek roar behind her and knew that he would be following. She kept running, telling herself repeatedly to keep going. "Come on Alex. Run Alex. Come on Alex. Run Alex." She had no idea where she was going and it was difficult with her hands behind her back. She knew if she fell, she would never get up again. She passed other buildings in the allotment, all of them in darkness. She strained, trying to hear if there was anyone close by, but her ears were filled only with her own frantic breathing. There was no obvious exit, no route leading to a main road. Nothing that screamed _come this way and you'll be safe._

"Alex!" She heard Derek call out her name and he sounded so close. She ran faster, not knowing if she was running a straight line or in circles. Her chest was painfully tight, her breathing laboured. She felt like an animal being run to ground. Sooner or later, it turns and faces its hunter, accepts its fate.

"No," she told herself, "I have to get back to Molly. I will _not _die out here! Keep running Alex, come on!" But then her foot caught and she felt herself plunge forward and roll and she realised, even in those terrifying few moments, that she was rolling down stone steps. Her body thumped painfully against each one until finally, she came to rest.

She couldn't move, everything ached, the pain was too incredible. Opening her eyes, the darkness seemed even blacker and shapes swam in front of her. Her ears were ringing, most likely from the fall. But then again, it sounded like a siren…

Something felt broken, everything felt broken. She could taste blood. This was how he would find her. She would be an easy kill after all. Closing and opening her eyes again, she thought she saw something ahead of her in the darkness. It was light. No, it was a shape. A misty shape. Yet, as she continued to look at it, it appeared to take on the form of a person. But not someone she knew personally. Not someone she had ever spoken to. But someone she felt she knew so well…

"Meg?" Her voice came out as barely a breath. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to keep conscious, tried to focus on the shape. It looked like Meg, but it couldn't be Meg. Meg was dead. "Have you come to take me?" she mumbled to the shape, "Is it time?"

The face (was it a face?) seemed to just smile at her beatifically and she could have sworn she heard the gentlest of replies, "No…"

"Drake!" Now that _was _a voice she knew, "Alex?! Alex!"

"Here," she mumbled, "I'm down here…" Footsteps came pounding down the steps and then she could smell his scent, and he was beside her, and his arms were going around her and she cried out in pain.

"Don't move," he said in her ear, "the ambulance is coming. Don't move."

"Guv, did you see it?" Ray's voice came from above her. "Did you see it? What was it?"

"I don't know," she head Gene reply dismissively, "Does it matter? Where's the ambulance?"

"It looked like…" she heard Ray continue, undaunted, "I don't know. It just looked like…"

"Will you shut up and go and meet the ambulance?!" she heard Gene demand. Footsteps again. Ray leaving. Gene staying.

"Gene…" she heard herself say his name.

"It's all right love," his voice so close to her, his body so near to her. "It's all right. We got 'im. We got the bastard."

"I…hurts…"

"I know. The ambulance is coming. Soon 'ave you right as rain." She felt his breath on her neck, the pressure of his forehead against her cheek. "I've found you," she heard him say, before lapsing into unconsciousness, "I've found you."


	22. Chapter 22

**Thank you so much for your continued interest and support. I'm glad this story has been enjoyed by so many!! We're almost at the end now, but please continue to enjoy and leave a review!!**

**London – May 1981**

Amazingly, nothing was broken. The doctors couldn't believe it. The fall down the steps had resulted in a few bumps and bruises, but nothing more serious than that and, after Alex had regained consciousness in the ambulance, the doctors had said they wanted to keep her in for a few hours for observation.

Gene never left her side, except to go back to the station to interrogate Wallace. The entire time he was away, Alex worried. She worried about what he might say to Wallace, and what he might do.

"Don't do anything stupid," she had said to him just before you left, "If you hurt him…the entire case is lost."

"What do you take me for?" he had replied, "a complete moron?"

"You said it, not me."

"Don't you worry, Bolly. I'll stick to the book, I promise."

But she had still worried and hadn't been able to relax until he had returned a few hours later, triumph shining in his eyes. Wallace had confessed to everything. Every murder. Every detail.

"Are you all right?" Alex asked him as he sat back down beside her again.

"Fine."

"It can't have been easy for you. Hearing about it all, I mean."

"Couldn't shut the bastard up," Gene replied, "Once 'e got started 'e went on and on and on. Didn't even 'ave to 'it 'im. Some of what 'e said…" he trailed off and rubbed his eyes.

"About Meg?" Gene nodded. "Like…?"

"Like 'ow much 'e allegedly loved 'er." Gene looked down at the floor.

"I suppose…in his head…he did."

He looked up at her, "Love isn't hurting people, Alex. Love isn't raping and killing. Love is…protecting, nurturing…"

Alex reached over and took his hand, "I know. I'm sorry."

"Yeah well," he replied, squeezing hers tightly in return, "enough about that. When 'ave the doctors said you can get out?"

"Later this evening."

"Good."

So he had stayed with her, waited while the doctors checked her over again, tactfully left the room so that she could get dressed and then protectively put his arm around her waist to steer her out of the hospital and into the car. Alex found she didn't even want to protest at his treating her like a helpless female. It actually felt nice and, in her physically and emotionally bruised and battered state, almost brought tears to her eyes.

"Fancy a quick drink?" Gene asked as they stopped outside Luigis.

"Oh," Alex said, "Well, I…"

"To be honest, that lot are in there waiting on you."

She felt touched at their concern, "Of course then. Why not?" Inside, she was greeted with rapturous cheers and hugs, even from Ray. After recounting her daring tale of escape at least ten times, she found herself at the corner table with Gene, nursing a glass of wine. They sat in companionable silence, watching as the others became more and more merry and Chris' Italian jokes became more and more terrible.

"You were lucky."

Gene's voice startled her out of her reverie. "Sorry?"

"I said, you were lucky."

"I had complete faith that you would find me."

Gene looked at her sideways, "Bollocks."

Alex smiled and took a long drink of her wine, "Maybe it is."

"I mean it, Bolly. You were lucky." She met his gaze. "He killed ten people. You were seconds away from being lucky number eleven."

She shivered involuntarily, knowing he was right and yet reluctant to acknowledge it. Instead, she looked around the restaurant, taking in the sights, sounds and smells, remembering how she had willed her mind to hang on to reality as she prepared to face her final moments. Or not, as it turned out. And was it even reality? She had cheated death. Shouldn't she have returned to her own time?

"You should take some time off."

Alex looked back at Gene, "Time off?"

"To recover. Get over what 'appened."

"I don't need to get over it." Even as she said the words, she could feel her voice catching in her throat, the prickling of tears behind her eyes again.

"Alex," his voice was soft and made her look at him again, "It's nothing to be ashamed of."

"This coming from you is _very_ surprising," she said, once she had regained control.

"Yeah well," he drained his whisky, "maybe I'm a changed man." Alex snorted. "I thought I'd lost you." His words made her pause. "I thought it was Meg all over again."

Alex thought back to Derek Wallace's words, about Gene caring about her more than he'd cared about Meg. "Not quite as bad, surely," she said.

"No?"

She looked at him, "You _loved _Meg. I'm just…" she broke off, not entirely sure how to finish the sentence.

"Just what?"

"I don't know," she shook her head. "I'm talking rubbish. Must be the blow to the head." She giggled, "I thought I saw something out there tonight."

"What?"

"When I was lying at the bottom of those steps, thinking I was going to die…I saw a vision…something…I don't know…"

"You're beginning to sound like Ray."

"Really?"

Gene nodded, "'E was going on about seeing some sort of _thing_ in the dark that led us to you. Me, I didn't see anything."

"I thought it was…" she broke off, wondering if it was too raw to share with him.

He looked at her questioningly, "Thought it was what?"

"Meg," she replied quietly, "I thought it was Meg." She saw the muscles in his jaw tighten. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to…"

"Meg's gone," he said, "She's gone, Alex, and she's never coming back. I know that now. Not that I didn't before, mind. I'm not one of them loopy bastards but…'aving 'er killer in custody…" he nodded, "makes it final. Makes it finished."

"Finished?"

"Over. 'Er life and that part of mine. Over."

"What about Danny? You can look him in the eye and tell him now. Tell him what happened to his mother." Gene nodded. "Build a different life with him, a closer life. She might be gone, Gene, but she lives on through him and through you." He looked at her, "You'll never forget her."

"No," he agreed, "but that doesn't mean I can't move on, does it?"

"Of course not."

"I mean, I can love 'er and love someone else, can't I?"

"Yes." Alex felt as though the sounds in the restaurant were disappearing, growing fainter by the second. Instead, all she could hear was Gene's voice and the thumping of her heart in her chest. What was happening to her? Was it an after effect of what she had been through, or something more serious? "Yes you can."

Gene cleared his throat, "You know…erm…"

"_They Died With Their Boots On_?" Alex pre-empted him. He nodded. "Thought you'd never ask."

They got up from the table and made their way through the crowds to the stairs. No-one said anything, or questioned where they were going. They were all too busy enjoying themselves to even notice. Alex led the way slowly up the stairs to her flat, almost painfully slowly given her injuries, and found herself reaching behind her to take Gene's hand, like something out of some dodgy American movie. They didn't say anything as she unlocked the flat door and they stepped into the darkness.

Alex turned, closed the door and could instantly feel Gene close behind her. She stood for a moment, her palms flat against the smooth wood, her forehead resting against it, as she felt his hands on her waist, slipping around her, drawing himself into her. They stood like that for a long moment, no sound but the gentle intake and release of breath. Then, she felt a sudden coolness as he withdrew one arm, pushed her hair to one side and dropped a soft kiss on her bare right shoulder.

She turned to face him, her back now pressed against the door, and looked into his eyes. She knew what she saw and it was desire, mixed with something else that she couldn't quite identify. Pain? Regret? Longing? In that moment, however, it didn't matter, nothing did. He stepped closer to her, cupped her face with his hand and kissed her.

It wasn't the kiss she had envisioned. Gene Hunt, she had always imagined, would be rough, manly, insistent. Yes this was gentle, almost tentative, and it was up to her to show him that it was what she wanted. She slid her hands under his coat and around his back, pulling him closer to her.

"Oh my, Bolly," he murmured, taking his mouth from hers and planting kisses down her neck.

It was the first time she had felt like this for so long. It wasn't like when she had slept with that Thatcherite, a drunken need for close physical contact. No, it was something more than that. Something that felt almost destined. As if her whole life, past and present, had been leading to this moment.

Gene moved away from her then, breathing heavily, and she felt physical pain at the loss of his body against hers. Letting out a low moan of displeasure, she stepped forward into his embrace again, kissing his mouth, his face, his eyes… She had a need to show him that it was all right to care about someone else again. That there was nothing to be ashamed of.

"Stay with me," she whispered, when she drew back for breath, "please stay with me."

"With you…forever and ever and ever amen," he replied.

Like his kiss, his lovemaking was not what she had expected. When she had let her mind reach those depths of depravity, she had envisioned heat, consensual violence, lots of wrestling…but instead, it was the entire opposite. Perhaps mindful of the fact that every part of her body was sensitive to the touch, he undressed her gently and carefully, kissing those bruises that were now beginning to appear on her skin. He was respectful of her nudity when it came, taking the blanket that lay on top of the bed and wrapping it around them.

She ran her hands over his body, gently biting the flesh of his shoulder, "I didn't want you," she breathed, "I didn't want you then, but I want you now."

"That's good," he replied, "because you're going to get me."

Alex felt like she was floating, as if her entire body had lifted off of the ground, even though he had to be twice her weight. She cried out when he slipped inside of her, arching her body back against his, gripping him tightly. As they moved together, he flattened her hair back from her face and she found herself looking directly into his eyes. Those blue eyes that she had grown so fond of and that she now never wanted to not look into. She cupped his face gently with her hand, feeling the heat of his breath on her palm. Everything in the last few months had been building to this. Every painful moment parted from Molly, ever second spent desperately wondering if she would get home…it had all been worth it. This was where she was meant to be.

They came together, something she thought never happened in real life, or at least had never happened to her. A final push and she felt herself falling down that sweet cliff into the ecstasy below, her entire being singing with the sheer wonderfulness of it all.

Afterwards, she lay with her head against his chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and the rise and fall of his body as he breathed. His arm was wound around her, not tightly enough to hurt her, but tight enough to make her feel safe and wanted.

"You ok?" Gene asked her finally, breaking the silence.

"Fine," she replied, "You?"

"Never better." It was a positive sentiment, but she could hear the slight tinge of regret in his tone.

Lifting her head, she looked up at him, "Are you sure?"

He looked down at her, "Course."

"It's just…you don't sound convinced."

Gene sighed heavily, lifted his hand from her shoulder and gently stroked her hair. "Suppose it feels a bit weird. You're the first woman since Meg…"

"You can't possibly be suggesting that I'm the first woman since Meg that you've had sex with, because I _know _that's not true."

"Who said anything about sex?"

"What?"

"I was going to say, if you 'adn't so _rudely_ interrupted me, that you're the first woman since Meg that I've made love to."

"Oh," Alex dropped her head back down onto his chest, "I suppose I should be flattered then."

"Yes, you bloody well should be," he replied, kissing the top of her head, "I 'ave to say though."

"What?"

"It was worth the seven year wait."

Alex paused, wondering if she should say it, then deciding to take the plunge, so convinced in her belief that it had been Meg who had led Gene to her at the allotment. "I'm sure she would be very happy for you." Gene didn't reply, but he squeezed her tighter and that was all she needed.

Eventually, she found herself falling into a contended sleep, Gene at her back, his arm across her. Her mind was so exhausted, not only from the events surrounding Derek Wallace, but also from the incredible lovemaking which they had repeated twice more before giving in to weariness.

Something was stopping her, however. Something in her head that was annoying her, that was right there, that was confusing her and keeping her just this side of the dream world divide.

"We're soaring…flying…" she heard herself mumble. Her eyes opened, but everything was in darkness. She couldn't see anything, but reaching down, she could still feel Gene's arm around her. Closing her eyes again, she tried to drop off, but that annoying phrase wouldn't leave her head. "We're soaring…flying…there's not a star in heaven that we can't reach…"

She opened her eyes again. Again, the room was in darkness. What was it? What was it about that phrase that was so annoying and yet so familiar? Pushing back the covers, she sat on the edge of the bed, wincing at the pain in her body which had now spread to her head.

"Aspirin, Alex," she told herself. Getting to her feet, she swayed and reached out to touch the wall for support. Once she had regained her balance, she traversed a path through the discarded clothes and made her way out of the bedroom and into the living room. To her surprise, the television was on. She stared at the screen, at the fuzzy snow, wondering why she couldn't stop saying that phrase. "We're soaring…flying…there's not a star in heaven that we can't reach. If we're trying then we're breaking free."

All of a sudden, the screen clicked off, making her jump. She took a deep breath, "Molls? Molls is that you?" The room started to spin around her and she could swear that she could hear her daughter's voice. Singing that same annoying phrase that she couldn't get out of her head.

"W_e're breaking free…"_

"Molly?" Alex spun around, trying to identify where the voice was coming from, trying to remember what those words were supposed to mean.

"Alex?"

Was that Gene's voice behind her? She couldn't tell. The room was whipping around her faster and faster and all she could hear was Molly's voice, singing that damn song…

"Alex, can you 'ear me?"

"Gene?" She turned around to try and find him, to try and see something familiar, something to make her stop spinning…

"Alex?"

"Gene!" She cried out his name again as, all of a sudden, the room was bathed in bright white light, forcing her to close her eyes and fall to the ground, covering them. It was too bright…too too bright…and her head was splitting in two with the pain and she couldn't stop the spinning…

"Alex? Alex, can you hear me? Alex, if you can hear me open your eyes. Open your eyes Alex, that's it. That's it."

The light was still bright, but not too bright that she couldn't see. Opening them, she saw strip lights in the ceiling above her, faces swimming in and out of focus and a voice she could have sworn was Molly's...

"She's awake! Mum! Mum, can you hear me. It's me! I knew it! I knew that if I played it to her, she would wake up. Mum!"

Then a light was shone in her eyes and a face appeared inches from her own, "All right Alex, you're doing fine. Just take nice deep breaths for me. That's it. Can you look at me? Look at me, Alex."

Alex tried to focus on the owner of the voice, but her vision still seemed fuzzy. She blinked two or three times, trying to clear it, but the pain in her head made her screw her eyes shut again.

"I'm going to give you something for the pain, Alex. I know it hurts, but first of all, I need you to look at me, all right? Look right at me, Alex, that's it."

She blinked again and slowly, fragment by fragment, the face came into view. It was a man, not that much older than herself, wearing a white coat, a stethoscope around his neck.

"Doctor…" she heard herself say.

"That's right, well done," he replied, "I'm Doctor Ryan, Alex. Do you know where you are?"

It wasn't much of a leap, even in her strange condition, "Hospital."

"That's right. You're in Kings Hospital, London. It's June 14th. Do you know what year it is?" Alex paused. "Come on, Alex, what year is it?"

"Nineteen…" she began then stopped. If Molly was here, then it couldn't be…it couldn't be… "Two thousand…two thousand and eight…"

"Very good. Well done, Alex. It's two thousand and eight. Now, can you tell me precisely how you're feeling right now?"

But Alex couldn't respond. Her gaze, newly restored, had suddenly fallen on the name badge pinned to his coat. She had missed it when he said it earlier, her mind too befuddled with where she was. But now, she looked at the name and then looked at him.

"Doctor Ryan…" she said slowly. The floppy blonde hair, the blue eyes, the way his mouth turned up at the corner…She was back. Back home in 2008, back to her own reality and, unless she was very much mistaken, looking up into the concerned face of Gene Hunt and Meg Ryan's son.


	23. Chapter 23

**Here you are then...the final chapter...or is it...? Thank you so much for all your reviews. I'm glad you've enjoyed the story and let's just say...it's never over til it's over...**

**London – June 2008**

Alex slept fitfully on and off for the next few days. Her mind wandered from the past to the present, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't ground herself in that place she wanted to be. Back in 1981. Back in Gene's arms. There were times when she was convinced that she was there, so convinced that she could smell his scent and taste him on her lips, but then she would open her eyes and find herself still in the hospital bed, Molly and Evan periodically at her bedside. She was glad to see them, so glad to be back with her daughter, but the aching pain of loss was so acute that it often brought tears to her eyes.

She woke after a particularly restless sleep, head woozy and eyes heavy, to find Doctor Ryan standing at the bottom of the bed. He was dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, his hands thrust into his pockets.

"Hello," he greeted her.

"Hi," she replied weakly, struggling to sit up in the bed.

"How are you feeling now?"

"Crap."

He smiled, "You will do for some time. You took a nasty blow to the head. But you were lucky. A few inches to the left…"

"Lucky…" she echoed, "someone else told me I was lucky recently."

He paused, as if deciding whether or not to speak, "You've been saying my name in your sleep." He smiled ruefully, "I hope whatever it was, it was good."

Alex smiled slightly, "Nothing like that. I know your father."

Daniel looked at her in confusion. "How do you know him?"

"We...we worked together," Alex replied, slowly. "A long time ago."

"But…"

"A long, _long,_ time ago…" she rubbed the bandage on her head.

"He retired from the force fifteen years ago and, you look around my age…"

"Trust me," she said, her tone slightly sharper than intended, "I know him."

Daniel nodded in agreement, as if no longer daring to disagree. "He wasn't the easiest person to work with, I imagine."

Alex smiled, "No." She looked at him, almost as a child seeking information on what their parents were like before they grew up and became _parents._ It felt so strange, looking at Daniel now and thinking that he didn't know the Gene she knew. Nor had he ever known Meg. "He spoke a lot about your mother." Not entirely true, but true enough.

Daniel's head snapped up, "He did?"

Alex nodded, "He loved her very much."

He looked away again and she could tell he was blinking back tears. "I never knew her. She died a few weeks after I was born. Murdered."

"I know."

He looked at her again, "It was a serial killer. Someone she worked with. He murdered other women in 1974 before murdering her and then again, in 1981…" his voice trailed off, "I wish I had known her."

"From what I understand," Alex said gently, "she was a lovely person."

Daniel smiled faintly at her, "Thank you."

"You're very like her, you know, looks-wise. But…you're your father's double."

He laughed, "Without the sarcasm and perpetual cigarette in hand."

She laughed too, "Exactly. With your genes, I'm surprised you didn't end up as a police officer."

Daniel made a face, "Not really for me. I think everyone thought I would become one. Even I said I wanted to at one point. Grandfather, mother, father…all cops. But I broke my leg when I was seven and, after that, I wanted to be a doctor."

Alex recalled the memory of the child in the hospital bed. "I'm sure your family is very proud of your achievements."

"My granddad is," he replied, "goes on about it all the time whenever I see him. He lives down here now. Moved down when Sarah and I had our first. Spoils them rotten."

"You have children?"

Daniel nodded. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his wallet and opened it. Passing it to her, she saw a photograph of a smiling woman, his wife presumably, and three grinning blonde children. "That's Eddie on the left. He's ten now. Jack, who's seven and that's our baby." Alex looked at the youngest little girl on the end. "Megan. She's nearly four."

Alex looked up and Daniel smiled ruefully. "I'm sure your mother would be pleased that you called your daughter after her." She passed the wallet back to him. "No Eugene, I see."

Daniel laughed, "Dad made me promise not to call any of my kids after him. What was it he said? "_Don't saddle the little bastards with summat like that."_

Alex laughed fondly, "That sounds like Gene." She paused, "Do you have a good relationship with him?"

"Not in the beginning. It was only when I moved down here to go to university in 1992 that we really bonded. Before that, I was living up in Manchester and he was down here." _So, _Alex thought, _you didn't make the effort after all__._ "But that was my choice. He wanted me to come down and live with him, but I was happier up there." Alex silently took her criticism back. "Once I was down here full time, we got on like a house on fire. He even got close to my granddad again which was something I thought would never happen, not after everything that happened with Mum."

Alex smiled, "I'm glad. I bet he never stops giving you a hard time though." She could just picture Gene as a hard father to please, but in a caring way.

Daniel's face took on a faraway look, "He did."

"Did?"

He turned to face her and she could see real pain in his eyes, "He died two years ago."

Alex felt her breath catch in her throat, "Died? But…"

"Liver cancer," Daniel explained, "I knew it would either be the booze or the fags that would do him in. I tried to tell him, but all he said was that he'd been drinking and smoking for so long that if I thought my Nancy-boy doctor ways were going to make him give up I had another thing coming."

She couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe he was gone. That she wouldn't have the chance to… "Did he…" she asked haltingly, "Did he ever…I mean…after your mother…?"

Daniel nodded. "There was someone else. Someone he worked with. I can vaguely picture her. She came to see me in the hospital with my dad and I think there was one other time with my grandad... Tall with…dark permed hair…" he smiled wistfully. "I didn't see my dad very often at that time and I don't think he wanted to expose me to his new relationship, so I think I only ever met her again about twice." He looked down at his feet, "Anyway, she died a few years later."

Alex looked at him. Could he be talking about her? Was that how her leaving was explained to Gene and the others? "When you say died…?"

"Gosh, it must have been…" he shook his head, "1983 I reckon. I never did find out what happened to her. He never really talked about it. Just said that she had passed away." He sighed, "It can't have been easy to lose another person he loved. The funny thing is…" he laughed slightly, "her name was Alex Drake too, and she looked quite like you. You don't have an aunt or something with the same name, do you?"

"No," Alex said, her body flooded with cold, "No I don't. What…?"

"Sorry," he reached into his pocket, cutting her off. "I'm being paged. I'll come back and see you later on. I want to know more about what Dad was really like." Quick as a flash, he had gone, leaving Alex free to digest everything she had learned.

XXXX

"I did as you asked," Evan said, the following morning. "I checked back all the records, but there's no mention of the name of the eleventh kidnap victim."

"But there _was _an eleventh victim!" Alex said.

"Yes, but her name was never released to the press due to the fact that she was the only one to survive. I've tried my best to get access to the police files but it's almost impossible," he shook his head, "freedom of information isn't all it's cracked up to be."

"But…what about Gene Hunt and…"

"Yes, there was a DCI Gene Hunt in the Met in the 80s. I remember him myself, but Alex…"

"And Meg?" she persisted.

Evan nodded, "Megan Ryan was murdered in March 1974 by Derek Wallace. She was apparently the victim he wanted and he went to his grave protesting that he had only done it because he loved her, but I don't see what any of this has got to do with anything!"

"And what happened in 1983? Is there anything about a female police officer being killed or dying or…?"

"You want me to check every obituary from 1983?" he replied sarcastically. "Alex, I'm concerned that this is doing you no good whatsoever. Not to mention the fact that this obsession with Gene Hunt and everything from 1981 is upsetting Molly."

Alex was jolted back to reality by his words. "Molly? But…"

"She's so thrilled that you're all right, but all you want to do is talk about things which happened so long ago as to now be meaningless! Not to mention the fact that the longer this strange behaviour continues, the longer you're going to remain in here and the more chance there is of you being committed!"

Alex paused, "I see." Tears filled her eyes as they seemed to be doing so frequently now. "Evan…I'm not crazy…"

"I know you're not," he replied comfortingly, "but you have to stop thinking about this fantasy world, which quite frankly I don't know how you stumbled upon in the first place, and start thinking about getting yourself better so that you can go home."

She knew he was right and later, when he had left, she lay in the gathering dark with everything rolling around in her head. Molly, Evan, Gene, Meg…Daniel…the Alex Drake who died in 1983…Was it possible? Could it be that she had been destined to stay with Gene for another two years before coming back? Had she returned to 2008 prematurely?

"Oh…what does it all mean…?" she mumbled to herself.

"I've heard plenty of people in here ask themselves that." She turned and saw Daniel at the door of her room. "I've even asked it myself a few times." He walked over to the bed and checked her chart. "You seem to be doing well physically, but some of the nurses have expressed concerns about your emotional state."

"I'm fine," she replied as positively as possible, remembering Evan's words of caution, "I'm just wondering when I can go home?"

"Another day or two perhaps," he replied, scribbling something down on the chart. "You have a lovely daughter. She'd get on really well with my boys."

The thought of Molly playing with Gene's grandchildren gave Alex a funny feeling. "When your dad passed away…" She began and then stopped when Daniel's face took on a look of regret. "I'm sorry, would you rather I didn't…"

"No, no," he reassured her, "It's just that I haven't talked about him for so long with anyone who really knew him. My granddad will occasionally talk about the old days, but he has so many regrets of his own that…"

"I understand," she nodded, "All I was going to ask was, when your dad passed away, did he say anything about…anything…?" She wasn't even sure what she was expecting Daniel to tell her, but this connection to Gene was all she had to cling on to.

"We spoke a lot towards the end," he replied, perching on the edge of the bed, "I think he wanted to make up for the time we had missed out on together. He talked about Mum and the past…he talked about her too, the other girlfriend he had I mean," he replied, "but not as much. It was as if it hurt him too much. Even more than losing Mum. I got the impression that…" he paused.

"What?" she prompted him.

"It sounds silly, but I got the impression that there was nothing he was able to do to give himself closure. Unlike Mum, where he was able to put Wallace away, there was nothing he could do for his Alex, or for himself. I think that troubled him a lot. I was with him at the end, you know, and I could have sworn that he said her name as he crossed over."

"Meg?"

"Alex." He smiled. "He's buried next to Mum though, just as I reckon he would have wanted."

After he had gone, Alex's mind drifted back to the conversation she had had with Gene in 1981 on that very subject.

_"I went to Meg's grave too."_

_"Bloody 'ell, you really were sightseeing weren't you?"_

_"It's a lovely place. For a cemetery, that is."_

_"Yeah it is."_

_"Nice and green."_

_"Yup."_

_"And open."_

_"She would 'ave liked it. Meg, that is."_

_"I'm sure she would."_

_"I like it there too. Maybe one day I'll be there meself."_

_"Not thinking of going and dying on me now, are you?" _

_"Reckon I should be beside 'er, don't you?"_

**Two weeks later**

The library was fairly empty, as it always was, as Alex worked furiously at one of the computers. She had been up since seven, as she was every morning, trawling the Internet at home and writing down her thoughts about this 1983 Alex Drake and how she could find out exactly what had happened to her, before making her daily trip to the local library to see if there was any further information that could help her.

She was still signed off work sick, and would be for some time, and with Molly safely ensconced in school for six hours a day, it gave her the freedom to research and wallow to her heart's content. Every morning, for the past two weeks when she had opened her eyes, she had prayed fervently for the familiar sight of the flat, for the comfort of Gene's arms, for the knowledge that she was going to work in that terribly badly decorated police station. Yet, every morning, she woke in her own bedroom in 2008.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be with Molly. It was entirely the opposite. Having spent so long trying to get back to her daughter, it was wonderful to be with her again. But now she found herself wishing desperately she could simply grab Molly and transport them both back to 1981.

The Internet held plenty of information on Derek Wallace and his crimes. So much in fact that Alex was surprised she had heard little, if anything, of it before her accident. Try as she might, however, there was no real mention of the eleventh kidnap victim. Despite looking through archives of the local papers of the day, there were no pictures, no details, except that she was a woman in her early thirties who had survived, but would rather be kept out of the public eye as a result. Wallace had pled guilty, so there had never been any trial for her to attend.

Then there was 1983. Nothing of any great value. Nothing that told her what had, potentially, happened to herself. It was frustrating, in an age where information was, allegedly, at your fingertips, to find nothing whatsoever.

"I have to go back," she told herself, sitting up straight and easing the tired muscles in her back. "I have to go back and find out what happened to me." How, was the question. She couldn't throw herself off of a roof like Sam Tyler had. There was too much here in 2008, Molly in particular, to risk dying and yet there was also so much nothing. Gene was gone in 2008, no longer a part of her world, but she had to know if she was meant to be a part of his, even if only for a little while. And maybe…just maybe…find a way to prevent her own death in 1983 and stay…

Her stomach grumbled, indicating that it was time to get something to eat. Leaving her corner of the library, strewn with papers, she lifted her bag and made her way to the main entrance, smiling at the elderly librarian as she always did. She was convinced that the woman thought she was completely mad. Ruefully, she thought, perhaps she was.

The air outside was balmy and she made her way down the library steps towards the road to cross over to the local café. Too lazy to go to the zebra crossing, she watched for a break in the traffic and then stepped off of the kerb. Her mobile rang halfway across the road, and, preoccupied with fumbling in her bag to retrieve it, she didn't see the truck bearing down on her. In fact, she didn't see it at all.

There was no pain whatsoever. Only darkness. Darkness slowly fading into light. Silence, slowing fading into sounds. She found herself sitting on damp ground, the cold seeping into her backside, her head between her knees. The world was spinning on its axis, but if she kept her head down, instinctively she knew that it would stop. When it did, she opened her eyes and found herself looking at the ground. She tried to move, but her arms appeared to be tied behind her back and, subsequently, around some other object, making it impossible to move.

"No," she heard herself whisper. She had survived Wallace, had gotten away and survived. She couldn't be back here again. Not in that situation…could she?

"Another fine bloody, sodding, shitting mess!"

Alex's head snapped up and the sight that greeted her was one that made her insides fill with warm, that made the torment of the last few weeks worth it. It was a sight she had longed for, and yet had never dared hoped to see.

"Oh, back with us, Bolly, I see." Gene's expression was one of supreme irritation. "Typical woman to peg out completely at the first sign of bloody danger." He appeared to be in a similar situation, hands tied behind his back.

"Gene…" she breathed, almost unable to believe it was him.

"Save that saucy voice for later when I've got you over me desk," he replied. "Now then, Tyler, 'ow do you propose we get ourselves out of this little pickle?"

Alex turned her head slowly to the left and, to her complete and utter amazement, saw Sam Tyler sat next to her, tied up similarly to Gene and herself and looking extremely pissed off…………

The End...?

**So...door left wide open for a sequel then...only if you want one of course ;) Sorry about the truck by the way but I couldn't really think of another way to get her back there!!**

**Where are Gene, Alex and Sam? Why are they tied up? Why and how is Sam back? Are Gene and Alex destined to be together? Can Alex prevent her own death in 1983? What about 2008 and Molly? Can I ever come up with a story to answer all of these questions??**


End file.
